... these are the thoughts and updates on my life as I begin my 27 month service as a Peace Corps Volunteer in Nicaragua in the health sector, "Estilo de la vida saluable.." This is for my family, closest friends, anyone interested in the Peace Corps, or anyone interested in Nicaragua really. Enjoy!

Monday, September 24, 2012

Bulls, Corn, Elections (these things deserve another blog)


       There aren't many feelings comparable to almost witnessing death. We are currently in San Fernando’s “fiestas patronales,” which are festivities celebrating the patron saint of the town. Every community in Nicaragua celebrates their “fiestas patronales” for about two weeks once a year. When one takes into account the multitude of the communities in Nicaragua, this means that there is always a party happening in Nicaragua. Always. So anyways, there I was, at a “barrera” (bullriding event), watching drunk men throw beer cans at the ground as small, barefooted children run to pick the cans up (to sell for about two cents), and then watching these drunk men strap themselves to the back of an enraged bull. These men who had been drinking 10 cordoba liquor were not the trained professionals that come out of bull-riding unscatched. It was very plausible that at any moment a bull's hoof would crush a fallen man's head, and yet the crowds cheered louder with every discombobulated soul that attempted to get on the bull's back and louder still with every lurch, flail or fall.  I think I know now what it feels like to be a Roman peasant watching a gladiator fight. Barbarically exhilarating. 

       Depending on whom you ask, there is a birthday custom here in Nicaragua of pegging the birthday boy/girl with an egg. I am not sure how valid this claim is, but I wasn’t going to question it, and I diligently waited for the birthday to happen of someone who I could hit with an egg and not be scared of later. Jeison, the ten year old of the family I live with, was the perfect opportunity. I struck him with an egg early in the morning on the day of his birthday. I gave him a big hug, said “felicidades!” and crushed an egg on the top of his head while his mom, brother, and sister witnessed and laughed. It was a very satisfying experience to crush an egg on an unsuspecting child. Although, he can’t say he wasn’t warned, I’d been joking about it for the past week, and he had a good sense of humor about it. To make up for it, I gave him a cute picture, two t –shirts (which I picked out a couple sizes too big, every time I see him I am surprised by what a wee little guy he is) and twenty cords. Twenty cords is less than a dollar, which actually goes a looong way here, you can get a media libra de cuajada for 18, which is delicious, freshly made cheese and what I’ve been using as my main calcium source for quite some time. I don’t think Jeison will buy cheese with his twenty cords, but maybe he’ll put it in the bank?

       Speaking of Jeison, I like to think my presence here will enlighten him on the great-wide-world we’ve got out there. I was flossing my teeth the other day and he looks at my dental floss and asks me, “Haaaylaaayn (that’s how my name is pronounced here, in kind of a sing-song way, it’s cute, just ask my family), hay calzones de hilo dental?” Jeison just asked me in a sincere manner if there is underwear made of dental floss… Confused, I looked over to the drying line that had my and his mom’s underwear flapping in the wind. My underwear is by no means scandalous, but I could see where in comparison to underwear of “more coverage,” my panties cooould possibly resemble dental floss. I appreciated his critical thinking, but corrected him, letting him know that most underwear is cotton in different styles, and that none are made from dental floss, then retreated to my room before laughing to myself and writing this blog.

       I’m currently putting the results on an encuesta (survey) that I’m doing in San Fernando on suicide.  San Fernando the municipality with the highest number of suicide attempts in Nueva Segovia, which is a department that already has a high number of suicide attempts. My theory is that Nueva Segovia is the forgotten part of Nicaragua, it’s not the ritzy Granada, there’s no impressive volcanoes to see or board down like in Chinadega or Leon (although right now I am pretty happy that my site is, safely tucked into the mountains, and not in potential lava flow), and we have no famous beaches like Rivas or Managua, and therefore the people feel lack of opportunity and hope. The capital of Nueva Segovia, Ocotal, only has 40,000 people.  It’s a place that many Nicaraguans have not even been to themselves, it is a forgotten and neglected land where the people work hard, and when you hear about the wild “creencias” of Nicaraguan culture (such as taking a cold shower when you are hot can hurt you, reaching into a fridge if you have a fever can hurt you, apparently it’s bad to mix cold and hot), this is where a lot of them come from. If I weren’t placed in this Northern land, there would this whole other world of Nicaragua that I would not have experienced.  I wouldn’t be milking cows, traipsing through mountains that have just been declared “landmine free” from the war, learning the ins and outs of coffee farming, or trying “chica bruja” (the witch’s tit, look it up) while eating corn products. There's something to be said for this part of Nicaragua, and I hope to spread that knowledge.

      The life of a cell phone was lost yesterday. It was victim of an opportunistic crime. I went to Jalapa, one of the cities very close to Honduras and site of PCV Carli Dean, the hostess with the mostess, for their Corn Festival. It was the reunion of the Dolores Dream Team, which consists of PCV Natalie Pritchett, Carli Dean, and me, who were all in the training town of , you-guessed-it!, Dolores, Corazo. Jalapa’s “Feria de Maize” celebrates all that is corn, as if Nicaragua already does not embrace corn enough. The Dream Team conquered carnival rides that I’m pretty sure someone must have died on by the end of the night- just imagine the Gravitron without seatbelts. We also stomped around in the mud, and then semi-washed our embarrassing-muddy toes to go dancing in the name of corn. La Feria de Maize was a great time and comes highly recommended all AG (agriculture) volunteers, as well as the coolest volunteers of other sectors. However, my luck ran out when I played Russian Roulette with my cell phone placement. I had my phone out while waiting for the bus, talking to my many friends, while the bus quickly pulled up and immediately a lot of people crowded around the entrance to board the bus. I put my cell phone in my pocket, actually thinking to myself “Whoa, my phone is pretty vulnerable right by, but, hey lemme get a seat!” It was crowded getting into to bus and when I got to my seat I see my cell phone is not there. I called it immediately with my friend’s phone and found that my phone had already been turned offI made a distraught gringo plea at the bus, saying I’d compensate if someone could find my phone, I wouldn’t do anything, or please at least give me the SIM card with all my contact info. I got nothing but stares and a few whispered "gringrita." The bus driver tried to help me out and said we wouldn’t leave someone handed over a cell phone. After a few sad minutes, I accepted defeat and said “ya nos vamos.” I was more upset at losing my numbers than I was at losing my cell phone, I worked hard to find those friends and contacts! I know, I know, it was totally a crime that I had set myself up for, but things like that never leave you with that warm-fuzzy feeling.  However, after all is sad and done, being one cell phone down after eight months of living in Nicaragua is much better than my cell phone track record in Miami.  Either way, I won’t be getting an iPhone just yet…. unless they’ve come up with an app that can solve robbery problems. 

       On a final note, elections are coming up here in Nicaragua as well (for the mayor)! Election day here is November 4th, and depending on where in this country you live, the debates might be getting heated (the debates here are a little less official and may involve rocks). Go get educated on the political situation in your country, as well as other countries, and appreciate that although our governmental system is not perfect, your vote actually DOES count, and we've got an alright set-up in the great EEUU. 

Wednesday, September 5, 2012

Family Vacays and Special Needs Children


       Hello all! I just got done lunching on a challa (squash-like substance, pronounced “chai-ya!”) with egg and cheese cooked inside, a salad of chopped up cabbage, onions, and tomatoes with fresh squeezed lime juice (remind me to use lime juice on everything, it’s delicious) and of course, a side of rice and beans. Greetings five months into my site. Some things are different -we’ve had a few dog births, as well as a few deaths- while others remain the same, I’ve still got a small child army at my command if I choose to take over San Fernando.

       On a global update: The Schafer family has landed, conquered, and returned to their nesting grounds. July was the first month I was officially able to take vacation, so of course, my wonderful family came down July 20 to spend a few weeks with me. Dean was able to come from Turkey since he had summer vacation from school, so I got to see my big brother for the since we went out to Istanbul to visit him a year ago, the timing worked out perfectly.  It really meant the world to me that my whole family was coming down to visit, so I obsessively investigated, inquired, and reserved a solid two weeks of “planned fun” (shout-out to Caroline Deck with that one) for them. If anyone would like to see the itinerary of the trip, I would be glad to show them the “Folder of Fun” in which I kept all the reservation and excursion information. (True Story.) All of the planning paid off! Besides our car breaking down on the highway, no one besides me speaking Spanish, and an upset tummy or two, everything went fantastically.
For a country so small (geographically it’s the size of New York and has about 5 million people) there is so much to see. The clan got the full glimpse of that when they came down, I was determined to show them as much of this country as I could. As much as I would have loved to see my tall brothers and dad squeezing their bodies into the conglomerate mass that is the Nicaraguan bus system, I decided the best choice would be the Schafer-rent-a-car option. I highly recommend renting your own vehicle (with four wheel drive, aka “cuatro por cuatro”) if you want to make your own schedule and conquer the most remote beauties- such as the Maderas side of Ometepe, or make the horrible decision to take the “carretera vieja” to Leon. We were able to explore all aspects of the country, such as the touristy Granada, but then hopping on a ferry to the twin-peaked volcanic island Ometepe. My family being the adventurous bunch that they are did kayaking, natural reserves, but saved the last day for a hike up the Volcano Maderas, the volcano that is permanently shrouded in a cloud forest. ) We visited the city of Leon, an amazing city with it’s university atmosphere and as historical significance. Leon also has an active volcano, Cerro Negro, that you can hike up, them skyrocket down in a blaze of fire and glory. I like the test the limits of the people that say they love me, so I signed us up. They passed the test. Bringing them to San Fernando was a change from the well- beaten trail we had been tacking, my family went from visiting well known tourist spots to becoming the tourist attraction of the town. My town was amazed at these white giants parading through the streets, and I’ve never been been asked more in my little “Porque su pelo no es crespo” (“why isn’t you’re hair curly?”) and “como es tan chaparral?” (“how are you so short?”). I brought my family in my English class, they even became the subject matter. I am proud to say that a few words were exchanged between my students and my family, look at me, bridging the language gap! It was amazing having my family here at my new home. Now I know, that wherever they are, they will not longer picture their daughter/sister in some foreign, savage wasteland, but instead can see me where I actually am- in a good ol’ coffee farm town, surrounded by sweet kids with muddy clothes, mountain woman with gold and silver plated teeth, and me, handwashing my clothes in a water pila I just threw a cockroach out of,  in my room with my mosquito net with a poncho over it to act as a second roof cause my roof leaks….See Mom and Dad? It’s not so bad.

       So when my family left after two glorious weeks, I underwent a minor depression. I went into fetal position without my mother, lost and unsure of what to do, so I bought a guitar. I kept my business local and went with a man in Ocotal (the capital of Nueva Segovia) that custom builds guitars, and enlisted his services for a Nicaraguan handcrafted guitar… and I am pleased. I took lessons for three months before leavings for PC, so I picked up the four chords I’d learned before leaving, and man Lynrd Skynrrd’s “Free Bird” never sounded so good. I’ve also started practicing with a nun at the church, and she encourages me to listen to practice with songs that I know the chords for. I don’t think I’ll tell her that the only song I have the chords for that I also have on my Itunes is Tom Petty’s “Last Dance with Mary Jane.”

       I signed up for a 25 k this February on the island of Ometepe, which involved the racers scaling one of the volcanoes La Concepcion or Maderas. After hiking Maderas (the “less tall” of the two volcanoes, which took us 4 hours up and 3.5 hours to get back down), I realized that I need to be getting myself in gear. San Fernando has some beauitul mountain trails I like to run, as well as a soccer/baseball field if I don’t feel like scaling mountains that day. One little problem, however, is that when a run in the stadium, there is a little boy that looks out for me, and when he sees me out there running, he sneaks up on me and smacks my butt. Hard. Every time this happens, this fit of rage comes over me and I was to chase him and snack him back, only I can’t because this boy is mentally handicapped. Although, I’ve still come close. Maybe he’s just trying to motivate me to pick up the pace a little.

       I took a trip to the Atlantic Coast last week to be in Corn Islands for the Crab Soup Festival. This is the festival that celebrates the emancipation of slavery in the Carribean, I believe there were 99 slaves out on the Atlantic Coast when this emancipation happened. It is the crab soup festival because when the slaves were emancipated, everyone wanted to have a feast and cooked a giant soup of whatever was available, which was crab. To get out to the Corn Islands (there are two, Big Corn and Little Corn), one can take a 5 hour bus from Managua to El Rama, then take a lancha for a few hours to Bluefields, a town on the coast, then from Bluefields one takes a boat out into the Caribbean for 5 hours and they arrive on paradise. Or, one can take a one hour flight from Managua to arrive at paradise much more quickly. Boating is definitely more hardcoare. The Atlantic Coast is a neglected part of Nicaragua in the minds of many people, and the majority of PCV and locals do not make it over there, which makes sense because it is in its own world. The locals there speak Creole, which is like English, only cooler and sometimes I couldn’t understand. (Ex.”We are coming in Creole” is “We be reachin”). There is seafood galore, Renee, the PCV from Bluefrields, has warned us that “the only thing not more expensive on Corn Islands is the seafood.” One can get a two-tailed lobster dinner for $10 and some of the freshest, most delicious fish in the world. Even between the two islands, there are different feels to both. Big Corn Island, although caters to tourists, still has a very strong indigenous presence. Little Corn Island is only 3 km around, has no cars and mainly caters to the most determined travellers that have managed to make it out there. There is snorkeling and diving (if you are PADI or SSI certified and you don’t have your card, they can look you up, but bring your certification!) in extravagantly colored coral reefs. I’m not sure if I ran into some fire coral or something when I was snorkeling, but I now have a darker spot on my pinkie-knuckle on my left hand. Can anyone tell me what weird things there are in the ocean that stain your hands? (Note to audience: Nicaragua does NOT do wonderfuls for you skin. The “dewy” look I’ve got going on it actually just grease. Don’t even get me started on  After a glorious trip with good friends (and now we’ve got some new ones), I am safely home, tucked into the mountains of Nicaragua. Corn Islands was beautiful and the crab soup was delicious, but I thank God that I went last week and am not there right now, I’m not sure those little islands would be very fun in an earthquake-induced tsunami.
       Thanks for you time and participation, this is a thank you all that have been part of my life these past few months and been helping me with my trials and tribulations of living in and finding my place as a community health worker (and many other roles) in Nicaragua. I love sharing my experiences in Nicaragua with you, so keep up the good work of telling me what’s going on! Is anyone getting married? Are you having a baby? Did he finally get arrested? Rutherfordton got a real shopping mall?!?! Wait, is there an election coming up?

<3 Helen