A new frenemy

My host family, at some point while I was out of the house, acquired a piglet named Renata. I think she was a gift, but at any rate, she is ours now. The last few days, for various reasons, I've (sort of) gotten stuck taking care of her. This has been problematic because a) I wasn't given a lot of instructions, b) I don't really like most animals very much and c) I know very little about pigs. For example, how much food does one need to give a growing piglet? Can you kill it with too much food, like a fish? How does one yell in Spanish at a pig to discipline in, and teach it that it cannot under any circumstances, come into the house from the courtyard? Can you yell at it like a dog?

Renata is very necia, roughly meaning naughty. She likes to get into things, including my bedroom, which she seems oddly fascinated with for some reason. And where she decided to eat at my flip flops and get her muddy little snout all over everything, just after I had mopped the floor. Then, even more hilariously, she somehow climbed into my bed, after I thought I had shut the door. I had to drag her off, squealing all the way. Apparently, my host brother had moved her mattress, so she was hunting for another one. Lord only knows how she was able to make it into my bed because it's high off the ground. Stupid pig. Or rather, highly intelligent pig, wherein lie all the problems.

She is kind of cute though, with her little sunburnt back, spots, stubborn determination and inquisitive snorting.

Here's to hoping someone else ends up with her before Renata becomes food.

Italinica Food

Being here in Nicaragua has already changed the way I cook. My host brother asked me if I wanted to cook lunch the other day, and I excitedly accepted. Since he is not working right now, he's been doing household chores, which often means that I am lazing about in my hammock studying while he is cleaning and cooking. Although this was an entertaining big old F- YOU to the machismo of many households, I was starting to feel bad for being rather lazy.

I decided to cook some pasta, since that is vaguely representative of American cooking and my vaguely Italian ethnic heritage. After having delicious Italian food in Matagalpa the other day,  I knew it was pretty feasible to make with local ingredients. I had planned to make a tomato sauce, loaded with garlic and basil, but we didn't have much garlic, and I realized everyone would probably not find the sauce filling enough without meat, so I decided to add a little ground meat. And then I added more salt than I would have, guessing that everyone would find it not salty enough were I to follow my instincts. And added a lime, because it was there, and who doesn't like limes? And caved and made a side of guineo cuadrado, a bland banana relative, that I'm completely not fond of because more food was culturally called for.  By the time I was done, I was left with a dish that wasn't really Italian, but wasn't really Nica either.

However, I drew the line on two things. I refused to overboil the pasta and al-dente it stayed. And when my host brother asked if I was going to make rice to accompany the pasta, I refused to carbo load things further, and explained that we eat don't eat the two together. It was sort of awkward, but the food was good. At least I thought so.

We were talking about the challenges of defining what is American the other day at Reconnect. Because America is made up of so many different things, it's hard to describe satisfactorily what  "typical American dish" or "typical American music" is. But I think something that perhaps is a uniquely American experience is that many Americans have, at some point, tried a food that was something they were not familiar with, in terms of ingredients, flavors, or maybe even how it is supposed to be eaten. Being confronted with foreign food isn't necessarily as common an experience for people from other cultures. Guess I'll be facilitating a lot of those exchanges in the next two years. Sounds delicious.

Word of the Day:
nebliselva- cloud forest  (nuble- cloud + selva-forest)

Lucky me. I was able to go see a bit of the Northern part of Nicaragua this week, and I loved it. Mountains? Coffee? Chocolate? Yes, please. Because I want to mix things up, this is going to be part travelogue, part journal and part travel guide.

We had a meeting called "Re-Connect" with all of the 30 or so TEFL Volunteers up at Hotel Selva Negra, just outside Matalgalpa City. It's a gorgeous coffee-farm/nature reserve/eco-friendly hotel, owned by a German man with lots of cute cabanas that show off the German influence of the region, where many Germans moved in the late 19th century to farm. For this reason, and because it was cold, it reminded me of Southern Chile, the parts of German influence at least. It was a really great time. It was so good to have quality advice from our bosses and people who've been working for a year already for how to get the school year started right, work on additional projects in our communities and report all the work that we're doing. It was also just wonderful to be reminded of how strong our support system here is, from our fellow TEFLeros all the way up to our bosses. It was an emotional few days, but we also had some great outlets, like early morning hiking in the cloud forest, unlimited coffee and tea, and good food (VEGETABLES!!!!!!!!!)Seriously, you can win over a Peace Corps volunteer pretty easily with chocolate and vegetables. Catcalls, no, but a well- cooked carrot, maybe.

After Reconnect ended, TEFL 60 (my pledge class, for lack of a better descriptor) wasn't quite ready to bid adieu, so we stayed in Matagalpa City for a while to hang out. It's one of the bigger cities in Nicaragua, nestled up in the mountains. Lonely Planet's description of Matagalpa is pretty spot on. I loved it there. There's a gorgeous white cathedral in the center of town that is impressively white, beautiful parks, gorgeous hills you can climb up to look out over the city. The air is clean and crisp. It's kind of cold. There's good grub to be had, hip night life, cafes and just all the city-bustle that I've really missed, compounded by people driving like maniacs through the small streets. There are a fair number of tourists, but it's not as overwhelmingly touristy as Granada or Leon. It was just interesting to observe the social dynamics at play. Perhaps because of the nature of coffee farming, there was a feeling of social inequality and unrest that I haven't quite sensed in the same way in other parts of Nicaragua, perhaps because the mountains render everything visible...shacks high on the hills were visible from the city streets where the occasional Mercedes or fancy convertible roamed.

We stayed at a cool relatively hostel, Buena Onda (Good Vibes), which featured cheap but clean accomodations ($7 nightly plus free coffee and water, $1 towel rental). We got some welcome variety in our diets- eating Mexican food twice, delicious Italian food and some good ole comedor style deliciousness...rice and beans, cuajada, cream, and the freshest tortillas you could want. We also ate a ton of chocolate. There's a company nearby, El Castillo de Cacao, that makes artisanal Mexican style chocolate,which is a little bit bitter, but incredibly rich. Spent way too much money eating that, and the factory wasn't even open for touring. And lots of rosquetas, graham cracker tasting corn snacks, and rosquillas, which a friend dubbed "the cheese-its of Nicaragua" were eaten too. NOMZ. Nicaragua's corn products are soooooooo good.

In between all the eating, we got in a little bit of nature time as well. Early one morning, we climbed Cerro Apante which is just outside the city. Quite literally, the directions to get there are: just keep walking straight.  You climb through a neighborhood up to a dirt path that just keeps going. There are two roads to enter. There's one turn-off, through a gate, that's first, which is the harder way to climb up and a second, about 10 minutes later, that's paved most of the way up. We wandered into a coffee farm and then into this area where these men were working, but if you follow the dirt road you come to a small look out hut. The view of the city is amazing and it's a really cool area ecologically too. Be forewarned though, a random man, who may or may not be legitimate, will charge you C$30 to enter or exit, depending on the route you take.

We also visited the Santa Emilia waterfall, about a 1/2 hour busride outside the city. It's owned by a super friendly Bolivian man who used to work for the World Bank. There's lot of trails to hike, although we came late in the day. (C$200 taxi ride to get there or C$15 bus ride- take from Cotran-Norte towards La Dalia/El Tuma, C$30 to enter).

I was scared to leave. I hadn't really had that kind of anxiety about going back to site before, which I think is natural after so much bonding time. It's hard not to feel that you're starting over from zero in your relationships with everyone in your community when you haven't been there for very long. Part of what didn't help was that I have a giant (and admittedly very romanticized) obsession with mountains and coffee and that whole scene, and had been hoping for a site up that a ways. But when I finally did get back to San Miguel, it felt right, unexpected but natural somehow. A sense of belonging that is perhaps undeserved but at the very least, a calm that I can work with.

Gorilla Hunting

Güirilas, pronunced wirilas (or gorillas, if you're a zany group of Peace Corps volunteers), are a standard food of Northern Nicaragua, that I have a great fondness for. I will buy a güirila whenever one is offered to me, even if I'm not that hungry.

Essentially, güirilas are hot corn pancakes with a hunk of soft, salty cheese called cuajada in the center. The corn is sort of sweet and melts the cheese just slightly if they're warm enough. Usually you can find mobile vendors selling them on buses for less than 50 cents.

In the northern city of Sebaco, however, there is a pilgrimage worthy güirila stop. Dona Daysi's Güirilas, across from the gas station in this market town makes the best güirilas in this whole country. At first, I was skeptical about having to wait in line and pay a whole dollar for a güirila, but friends assured me "it will change your life."

It was actually that good. Love at first sight, a perfect run, a good book and a really good cup of coffee kind of good. Piping hot, fresh out of the oven, with the sweetest, freshest, softest corn and just the right amount of cuajada, a dream come true.

Now I just have to find a plausible reason to get up to Sebaco more often.

Peace Corps Gringas Gone Wild(ish): Misadventures in Managuan High Society

Managua is always an interesting place to visit as a Peace Corps volunteer. For security reasons, we spend most of our time during visits in very fachenta places, such as outrageously nice malls and upscale neighborhoods. This usually results in hilarity since the elite Managuans who inhabit such fancy places look really good all the time and the average Peace Corps volunteer, arriving after a long bus ride on decidedly ordinario transportation, looks a step up from homeless. Sort of like a scruffy, unshowered, medical student doing his or her residency. Secondly, going to such fancy places merely reinforces the fact that, despite what we might have had in the States, we do not have a lot of money anymore. For example, I thought about buying exercise pants until I realized they would have cost more than my food and rent for the month. Since we are paid on par, or more than a lot of the population, this raises the humbling question: Who has the money to shop here?

Anyways, my friend Caroline and I, went to the fanciest mall in the country, Gallerias, to get her computer fixed, while we were in Managua the night before a meeting. Having had 6-7 hour bus rides and in Caroline's case, also an early morning panga (boat) ride on top of everything else, we were badly in need of some coffee. So badly in need, that we neglected to realize that we had gone to the Flor de Cana rum brand's coffee stand, and the reason that the coffee was so expensive was that it had rum in it. No wonder the man had looked at us funny when we said we wanted our coffee to go. Needless to say,that was about the last thing that my body needed, but having spent a lot of money, I refused to not drink it. Which led to me wandering around the mall, rather giggly and socially suspect while we pretended that we could afford things, before giving up.

After stocking up on  things at the grocery store, we went to a spinning class, with a spin instructor who was sort of like a flamboyant, Latino version of my Uncle Jimmy. He was very crazy and demanding, which was entertaining, because I was still sort of tipsy, hadn't been to a spin class in months, and was finding that some newly acquired hermosa-ness was impeding my ability to do what he wanted.  

After dinner, we decided that we would spend whatever it took to get a really good dinner. We got sushi with a nutella crepe for dessert which was AMAZING, if not a very coherent menu.

Morals of the story: 1. Sometimes it's ok to treat yourself.
2. Managua isn't that bad of a place if you have money.
3. Don't buy coffee at the Flor de Cana stand unless you actually want to get tipsy.

Some thoughts on Tourism in Nicaragua

Nicaragua's been all over the New York Times lately as a hot place to visit. It was voted #3 out of places to go in 2013. Tourism is growing fast. With good reason, it's gorgeous here! There's plenty to see, and as vacation destinations go, it's really not that far from the US. There's plenty of talk now and whether or not Nicaragua will be "the next Costa Rica." There's a lot to bite into with that question, if you're interested, here's an article. Another article, from the NYT magazine "A Delicate Balance" irked me a bit. Mainly because the article was mostly about a photo-shoot and partly because I felt like bits of it were poorly researched. ("We're told that the difficult to-get-to island of Ometepe is a popular destination..." Umm, seriously? There are ferries all the time..It's about a Nantucket on public transportation level of difficulty to get to)....

One of the things I've find really interesting about this coverage though, is this automatic assumption that more tourism will automatically help "the second poorest country in the Americas." I'm pretty skeptical about this. Without a doubt, more tourist dollars flowing into Nicaragua will raise the GDP and create trickle down opportunities for employment through related industries. But the poorest regions of Nicaragua (the Northern mountainous corridor and the Atlantic Coast) aren't going to be affected much by potential tourists, particularly the adinerado ($$$$) sort of tourists the NYT article was arguing Nicaragua should make more efforts to draw in, instead of the usual backpacker hippie types. And it's true, these really are the only types of tourists you frequently see here, so much so that one of my FAQs is "Do Americans take showers regularly?" In my opinion, however, the growth of  giant resorts on the coast will merely exacerbate existing regional patterns of inequality.Which isn't to say that it won't make life better for a lot of people, because there are people living on the edge all over the country, but it's far from a holistic solution to Nicaragua's struggles with poverty.

I had a really interesting experience when I was living with the host family in Carazo. For their equivalent of Independence Day, we traveled to visit Tola, a town that boasts many of Nicaragua's most beautiful beaches. The roads to get to the beaches were all dirt, although a paving project was underway, supposedly supported by a new luxury resort. When we got to the beach we wanted to visit, reportedly the most beautiful in Nicaragua, according to internet research by a family member, we discovered that it was a private resort (I believe it was American owned) and that we couldn't enter. It was an uncomfortable moment: I was traveling with leftist Nicaraguans, conscious of their nation's history and nationalistically minded. And what could I respond, confronted with this situation? Why shouldn't they have a right to visit a beach in their own country? And it's something that Americans can't really relate to: other countries don't really own our stuff, and our territorial sovereignty hasn't been seriously questioned since the War of 1812. Weaned on tales of our own supposed supremacy among nations, we can't really relate to the uneasy feeling that arises from having this type of foreign investment. Sure, there are plenty of private beaches and such in the US, but there's a fundamentally different feeling about it.

When we finally rerouted towards another beach, we found another resort under construction nearby, with giant manicured lawns (despite the dry, sandy coastal climate and the fact that residents nearby probably lacked consistent access to potable water) and armed guards out front. It wasn't clear how local residents would benefit economically from such a space after it was constructed, other than through service industry jobs although who knows where this fortress would find its laborers.

The "Delicate Balance" article referred to not cutting corners and having community oriented projects included in giant resort developments as a "noble, if privileged approach to development." Maybe so, but why shouldn't this be the standard? If we're going to wrest people's country away from them to give rich tourists the experiences they desire, why not make their lives a little better in the process?

Carnivals, Puppies and Pupusas: Back to El Rosario

...An adventure in which the front porch ferris wheel makes a comeback

Word of the Day:
rueda chicagua- ferris wheel

hermosa- literally means beautiful, but Nicaraguans will say "Estas mas hermosa" to mean you've put on weight, but here it's a compliment. And Nicaraguans have a 6th sense for weight changes.

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After camp was over, I made it back to El Rosario to visit my old host family. Being in Peace Corps has really changed my approach and desires for traveling. When I was living in Chile, I was always jetting off (more accurately, taking arduous 12 hour bus rides off ) to new places. But this time, I wanted to spend my "out of site days" to go see some familiar people and places. Out of site days are days that you are allowed to be away from the place that you work without officially taking vacation time. This is a necessity in a lot of cases because going to the bank or going shopping properly are activities that can't usually be done where you live. Anyway, I guess having two years in a country gives you the feeling that you don't really need to rush to see all the sights.

It was interesting to be able to see things in El Rosario with fresh eyes, after I'd left about a month and a half ago. I secretly kind of like the Pacific Coast of Nicaragua better, although I love San Miguelito and Rio San Juan is growing on me. My first thought upon arriving in El Rosario was "Wow, this incredibly close to everything and quite urban" whereas when I first arrived there, I was like "OMG WHAT IS THIS PLACE, this is the smallest and in the middle of nowhere!!!!!!!!" Funny how your parameters for judging things can change pretty quickly. My second thought, shared by my travel companion and former training mate Jamey was "What is that tremendous amount of noise?" We had forgotten entirely that El Rosario has a whopping TWO fiestas patronales, and that the entire month of January is basically a fiesta here. So when I climbed out of the taxi, I realized that the street where my former host family lives was once again blocked off by carnival games, accompanied by lots of extremely loud MUUUUSSSSSSSSIIIIIIIIIIIIIICCCCCCCAA. My hopes of having a quiet weekend of recovery from camp were quickly dashed. I had forgotten how loud El Rosario is. A friend once told me it was once voted the safest pueblo in Nicaragua- I wouldn't doubt it, and I bet it is up there in terms of loudness as well. I think Americans have this vision of small towns/villages as quiet, peaceful places, which has nothing in common with the reality in the rest of the world if Central America is any sort of indicator.

It's funny how much had changed in a month, even as some things stayed entirely the same. My host mom has acquired a dog named Boston. It's cold here right now (like 50s at night), and windy because it's approaching dry season. All the furniture in the house was completely moved around. Instead of two Nicaraguan doctors, a roving cast of soccer players and family friends from El Salvador were renting the other rooms. There was a fresh coat of paint almost everywhere, in the house, and most places in town. 2 extended family members had gotten married. There is a pizza place in town now- that would have greatly improved our quality of life during training. A children's library had reopened. I felt comfortable enough to go on a long run to a nearby town, La Paz.

I had also forgotten how awesome and completely crazy, in the best kind of way, my training host family was. I fell right back into the weekend routine that we had had when I left, as if I had never been gone. It was especially fun to reunite with all my host mom's grandkids.

So, here are some amusing things that happened (and as usual, there was loud music blasting in the background for most of this):

-I accidentally interrupted a prayer service by walking into the house and exuberantly  hugging my host relatives. Missed social cues on that one...

-Boston, the new dog, which my host mom begrudgingly acquired pre-named from her nephew, has a stray doppelganger, right down to the string around his neck. The doppelganger dog got in the front gate, and then tried to get into my host brother's house. When my host mom tried to scare it away with water, it squeezed through the gate into his house, where it thoroughly ensconced itself in the bathroom. It took 3 people, a lot of dragging and a broom to extricate him. Then, after all that, the real Boston ran away. Doppelganger confusion continued.

-Watched a traditional dance exhibition at the cancha, the court. El Rosario has an absurdly nice cancha which I had never properly appreciated before.

-My host mom had a her birthday this weekend, which I wasn't aware of, until a mariachi band started serenading her at 3, including with the tune  "Hoppy Birthday". At first I thought it was a diana, an early morning parade to celebrate the Virgin Mary, but I realized what was going on when it became clear that the music was literally just outside the house. I felt really bad for not knowing it was her birthday until her granddaughter told me that she had forgotten too, and had yelled at the mariachi band to be quiet, before realizing who it was for.

-There were a ton of people in the house, pretty much none of whom I knew. Including a lot of Salvadoreans, who made homemade pupusas for my host mom's birthday dinner. Pupusas are basically little corn pancakes with different things inside, in this case, fried beans and fresh cheese, topped with cabbage salad and tomato salsa. Exquisito. Definitely some of the best food I've had in Nicaragua.

-Someone bought the 4 year old cousins whistles, which added another noise layer. AYYYY

-I taught origami to the grandkids, since teaching 150 Nicaraguan youths during ACCESS camp clearly wasn't enough. The house is now littered with cranes (herons because that was the only thing I knew the word for), balloons, crows, and butterflies. Also, I introduced them to candy corn, thanks to Hilary Clayton's excellent care packages.

Access Camp

A Rainbow of PCVs

Team New Jersey...with their native New Jerseyan

Nothing like a little singing

Hard at work in the classroom

Telephone

On a scavenger hunt in Granada

I spent the last week working at ACCESS camp, a summer camp that is part of a larger program sponsored by the US embassy. While it was a good break from my pre-school boredom, it was a ton of work and quite exhausting, because there were 300 kids staying at a hotel, spread out across dozens of cabanas on a labyrinthine property. Most of the 14-16 year- olds had never been away from home before, and being 14-16 year-olds, required quite a lot of supervision. The Peace Corps volunteers ended up doing much of the counseling and counting and wrangling, which was not exactly what we had expected.

The ACCESS micro-scholarship program is a really neat program though. High school students, of lower economic means, which I think for their purposes mostly includes students at public schools, take English classes for at least 2 hours every day for 2 years. At the end of the program, most students exhibit very high fluency, some even at "Advanced" speaker level. They are encouraged to dream big and have the same sense of entitlement to a good future that their wealthier peers might feel. At the time of camp, the kids had only been taking classes since May, but many of them already had great levels of comprehension and speaking ability. It was a nice change to be teaching kids with a strong interest in learning English and with unlimited supplies. Free photocopies? Pens? Flipchart paper? Colored paper? Glitter? I could work with that for sure.

Students went to English class every morning. I got lucky and had a really great Nicaraguan counterpart to teach with. We had pretty good co-teaching chemistry because he preferred to teach grammar and had a lot of ideas for warm- up activities, while he gave me space to teach lessons on slang, pronunciation, reading and the environment. At least, I think he was giving me space...maybe I was just being forceful. One of the really interesting things I've found as a gringa working here is that I don't even take into account that men are sometimes unused to working with women as equal partners. I just do my thing, and then later realize sometimes that it might be unnatural for them.

The students then spent the afternoon going to different activities in English, from Treasure hunts, to zumba class to electives. For our elective, former training mate Jamey and I taught origami...to about 60 kids at a time...with a microphone. It was extremely entertaining, although insane, and required a lot of repetition, patience and cognates: "Form a triangle...Form a rectangle...Fold the interior square...interior square."

We gave culture classes on our hometowns and Thanksgiving (I played nice and didn't mention any of the darker aspects of the holiday). We made the kids make hand turkeys and write the things they were thankful for on the fingers, which was a lot of fun. The kids also learned about Martin Luther King Jr, and the civil rights movement by watching a movie.

We also got to learn a lot about the students' own cities. Coming from 12 different cities all over Nicaragua, the students shared facts about themselves during numerous presentations. And during a talent show, which became vaguely inappropriate, because watching teenagers grind up on each other during dance numbers sure was awkward.

We also took the kids on a digital scavenger hunt in Granada, which was completely insane, but still pretty fun, especially because it's such a beautiful city.

On the last day, the US ambassador and some other VIPs came, and the kids did presentations about ACCESS for the closing ceremony. They also took hundreds of pictures of us. I felt like a C-list celebrity. The best part of the last day was that the Peace Corps director came for the ceremony and after, treated the PCVs to lunch, at an American themed diner. We were all extremely excited about the milkshakes and hamburgers. PCVs are some of the most easily impressed people on the planet. Bring us dark chocolate and we'll probably name our first child after you. Treat us to milkshakes, and man, who knows what you'll get.

Purty Pics

Aprovecharing of the free internet: here's a bit of my morning in Granada, Nicaragua's colonial capital.

I feel like there's something vaguely ironic to this image that perfectly sums up my feelings about Granada.

Parque Central

Iglesia La Merced, which boasts the best view of the city

Volcan Mombacho looms behind

La Catedral from above, with Lago Cocibolca behind it

Tons of places have gorgeous gardens in the center of the house, like this coffee shop

Viguron, Granada's specialty food: yucca, pork rinds, tomato and coleslaw with a slightly spicy sauce and star-shaped slightly sour fruits. NOMZ 

Let them have paint!

Repainting team hard at work...

Yup, 4 ladders. San Miguel boasts the largest world map in Nicaragua, so this was necessary

Sunrise on Lake Cocibolca

O. Henry didn't coin the name "Banana Republics" a propos of nothing. Lots of cargo aboard the ferry. 

Las Isletas de Granada...apparently there are 365 of them, although I couldn't independently verify that. 

A view of the city of Granada from the ferry

 

Some nice cloud cover, drifting over from Volcan Mombacho

Chilling in expat heaven, Granada en route to go work at an English camp. I want to hate it for being so touristy and fachenta, but also things are really nice here. I'm hanging out in a sweet cafe and there is so much internet here!!!!!!! Hence I went a little bit overboard on the pictures. (As usual, click on them to make them bigger.) Also I just had real coffee for the first time in like 3 months (!!!!!!!!!) and waffles with chocolate for the first time in like 6 months. This is basically the best morning ever, despite its unpropitious start during my 12 hour with a "storm" squall on the lake at 2 am. Nothing like a little motion sickness early in the morning. Luckily, I can fall asleep on pretty much every surface as long as I can lie prone, so I managed to fall back to sleep again pretty quickly. Basically, despite the perpetual motion, I enjoyed the boat road much more than a bus ride, even though it took twice the amount of time. I did, however, have to question their movie choice- it's unclear how a very bad zombie movie set in Africa and an even worse terror movie were supposed to be conducive to sleeping.

Anyways, a few highlights from this week:

-New Years Eve and Day were quite enjoyable and very relaxed.

-An RCPV (Returned Peace Corps Volunteer aka Former Volunteer) who left San Miguelito 3 years ago came back for a visit and I met her on New Years. Having her around was really reassuring- seeing how quick and comfortable with local slang, even after 3 years, hearing that she cried all the time and hated her first month here (mine was nowhere near that bad), and seeing the relationships she was able to build was really comforting. During her in San Miguelito, she had worked on a world map, that sits near the muelle, wharf. Her goal for the visit was to repaint it. Seeing how my schedule had a lot of free time in it, I came down to give her a hand, which was great, because I met a lot of cool people, some of whom I might even be able to work with on projects. And it looked really good with a fresh coat of paint, although after 2 full days of work,they were still far from being done. It's a small world, but I wouldn't want to paint (all) of it. Bad drumroll. Anyway, the map repainting was really inspiring too because there were several 14-18 year old boys involved, and some older seemingly vago dudes who turned out to be really cool. It was a great reminder to not judge by appearances. It was so great to see what everyone was able to do if just given a chance to blossom, a task to do, a brush to paint with. One of the saddest things about human societies in economic difficulty is the way so much potential is wasted, especially for teenage boys, who often fall into trouble because they have precious few legal or productive outlets to fill the human urge to create, leave a mark, fight the boredom of day to day. .  Working on this has really made me interested in trying to work on a map project in one of the comunidades, as the settlement outside of the "urban center" of San Miguel are referred to.

-This was an interesting week for wildlife sightings. San Miguel is full of garzas, herons, so there were lots of those. I  saw a monkey, except it was actually a really awkward situation. I was trying to go running when I ran into my sitemate, Christina, at her Spanish teachers' house. I hung out for about a half hour but then I really needed to go running because it was getting late. As soon as I left, Christina called me to tell me to come back to see a monkey. I had just rounded the corner when I saw a monkey fall straight and stiffly down from the power lines. It looked dead for a good minute. Then it kind of dragged itself up a tree, slowly. So that was pretty shocking. Yesterday I had my first big spider in my room sighting. Nice little half dollar sized body on that thing, and some legs on the slightly chubbier side. I'm surprised I hadn't seen one up until now but I guess I've mellowed out because it didn't phase me that much. Although it was hanging out on my bra and it would have probably be a bigger deal had I actuallly gotten dressed in my half asleep state without noticing. Lastly, I ate a giant fish with its head still on, when my sitemate and I went out to eat one night and due to inquiries using incorrect vocabulary were told that the restaurant only had fish. It's convenient that I like fish, because that is definitely one of the upsides to living in a fishing village.

Gorgeous Water

Sunset in San Carlos, Rio San Juan, the very tail end of Lake Nicaragua- there's an sculpture of an Indian man in that boat there

Sunset in San Miguelito, or as I have affectionately started calling it, "The Mig". This is gorgeous, but it's not even the most spectacular. One thing I love about this place is that the sunset is different every single day. Sometimes the twin volcanoes of Ometepe are visible, sometimes the mountains of Costa Rica are clearly in view, sometimes closer islands....and the color of the water is always slightly different.

A Most Excellent Song

This has teaching potential. 

Rum is not your friend but merengue has potential: A Nicaraguan NYE Survival Guide

*New Years can be stressful time to be away from home. Don't make it harder on yourself. Have some fun.

*If you see children under the age of 10 in the street, keep a wide berth. Be alert for visible sparks. Be able to hear does make life more fulfilling and firecracker explosions right next to your ears don't generally help in that regard.

*Rum is shockingly inexpensive in Nicaragua, which seems like a positive thing at first glance. Don't be fooled; rum is like that bitchy turncoat you were friends with in middle school who's badmouthing you the second you're out of earshot. Just say no. Especially because there is a high possibility that someone will offer you some sort of corn/sugar/rum based dessert on New Year's Day such as atolillo or sopa de borracha (drunkard's soup) which you will be obliged to eat out of politeness and will not sit well if you estas de goma, are hungover.

*Do attend the dance party in town. What else are you going to do, sit at home? Burn an effigy of the old year? Fire is scary. Go to the party. Everyone will be there, including a smattering of small children and the older crowd. Not to mention the majority of your co-workers. Don't let the erasure of any space between your personal and professional life grind you down- try to dance! As a general rule, don't turn down dance partners, unless they are like 30+ and visibly drunk.You'll know. Do what you feel.

*Merengue isn't hard. You, yes you, can do it! Just hold onto whoever you are dancing with, keep marching at all times and waggle your hips the sexy way. Yes, this is possible. Bachata is easy too. You can count to 2: this means you can dance bachata. And don't be scared if everyone essentially starts a mosh pit to ska or rock while beer is thrown on everyone in time to the music. These things happen. Just stay cool and try to keep your feet from being stomped on.

*Visit with people afterwards. Because there's nothing that shows you're embracing the serendipity of the new year like chatting with strangers at 2 am.