And when they weren’t sharing knowledge and planning their SST convocation for the fall, well, they enjoyed the beach in front of our lodges. We also made a couple trips to the neighboring beach of La Flor, a wildlife refuge where olive ridley sea turtles occasionally come ashore to nest. Although the turtles roam the Pacific from the coast of Canada all the way down to the coast of Peru, they will only nest at one spot – the same beach where they hatched.

Perhaps that same nesting instinct is what drew our students away from the beach and back to the land of Goshen today. However, we suspect that this summer some of them acquired another instinct that will someday bring them back to Nicaragua.

For Doug and Maria, it has been a special privilege to facilitate the interactions of the past three months between this country and the students. That they enjoyed their sojourn in Nicaragua so much is due mostly to the hospitality, patience, beauty, and laughter they found here. Hearing the students reflect on the meaning of their experiences, and seeing the friendships they made with Nicas, has been tremendously rewarding for us.

In May Doug happened to meet another college professor from the U.S. who was very pleased to be here with five students for 4 weeks of study-abroad. When he heard we were here with a whopping 23 students, all committed to spending three months living with Nica families, he was as impressed as Doug was proud to work at a school where so many students have that spirit of solidarity, sacrifice, and adventure. We’ve been equally proud to see how each of the 23 responded positively to the challenges of cross-cultural living and opened their minds.

Forty years since the first SST unit came to Nicaragua, and 30 years since the last unit left, these students reopened a path we hope many more will follow.

The return of the SST'ers happened to coincide with the start of Jinotepe's fiestas patronadas (patron saint festivities), so it was a little more hectic than usual getting around.

Saturday, Sunday and Monday will be spent on retreat at a Pacific beach, and very, very early Tuesday morning we'll get on the bus for the last time as we travel to the airport. [Pictures from the retreat will be posted sometime after Tuesday.]

On Friday and Wednesday (July 11 and 16) Maria made the 45-minute trip to the rural community of San Antonio Sur to visit Karla S and Karissa, who are working at Hogar Belen (Bethlehem Home), an orphanage for handicapped children. The community lies in the municipality of Managua, the capital, but is several miles south of the city outskirts. However, the urban sprawl of Managua is heading south, towards the neighboring city of Masaya, and many new houses are being built in this area.

When Maria arrived at Hogar Belen shortly before 9 a.m., the GC students were also just arriving to begin their work day. Every morning they are assigned to either help the children with physical therapy or, in a separate room, work on developing their senses. Today they were doing sensory work, for which they used music, different lights, and a variety of objects to touch. All their work with the children is one-on-one, which means they take 15-20 minute turns with each child.

Karla wrote in her journal how she has been impressed by the organization. “Every place like Hogar Belen that is built is dedicated to helping handicapped children live like the rest of the world. They not only give them a house to live in, but they also offer therapy, they take them to schools that help them, they have a psychologist that works there, as well as a nurse. It’s marvelous all that they do there, and I’m thrilled to have the opportunity to work a little with them.” The organization that runs Hogar Belen is Mustard Seed Community, www.mustardseed.com/ . “It doesn’t work only in Nicaragua, but it also has places like Hogar Belen in Jamaica, parts of Africa, and soon a new one will be built in Guatemala also.”

When the time came for the employees to have daily chapel at 10:00, some of the kids looked for adults to hold them on their laps, and one wasn’t too shy to ask Maria. After chapel Karissa and Karla worked again in several one-on-one shifts with the children. At 11:30 was lunch-time, and Maria accompanied Karla home.

Karla noted that this community has a different feel, since it is much smaller than Jinotepe, but that some contrasts are also more apparent. “Everyone knows everyone here. If you tell a moto-taxi that you live at the Estrada home, they know exactly where to take you. There’s something I realized when my brother took me on a walk to see the town. If you walk about 20 minutes in two different directions you’ll find huge, luxurious houses where people with a lot of money live. It’s odd to see houses like that so close to my community, which is so poor. It’s sad that it happens. I know that there are places like that in the U.S. also, but here the differences are more extreme.”

Karissa’s mother wasn’t at home on Friday, so Maria went back on Wednesday afternoon. After lunch each day Karla and Karissa start work again at 2:00, later there is a short chapel service especially for the children, and at 5:00 the work day is done. So Maria met Karissa as she was getting off work and accompanied her home to meet her family, as shown in the pictures.

.

A journal entry from Karissa, “SST and My Faith”

My personal faith journey has definitely been impacted by SST. I’ve felt the hole left by the lack of a church community that I can engage with on a regular basis. I’ve realized how vital it is to my own personal journey to have a community with whom I can discuss what it means to follow Christ. I have had that to an extent on SST, but at the same time I miss the specific relationships where those conversations took place naturally and regularly.

One question I’ve had to deal with a lot the past eight weeks is what my relationship to money should be. Seeing the need for money around me constantly has made me rethink some of my emphasis on stewardship as it has been taught in my wealthy context. Being immersed in another culture with a completely different history and context than my own has increased my understanding of God, while at the same time showing me the value of different beliefs as they are shaped out of a context I will never fully understand.

This has given me more conviction to hold tightly to my beliefs, but not so tightly that they can’t be changed or adjusted. I’ve come closer to being at peace with the fact that I’ll never fully understand what God is calling me to and how he desires that we live. I’ve also come closer to being at peace with knowing that if I simply do the best I can, God’s grace is sufficient to cover the rest.

On Thursday (July 10) Doug drove all of 20 minutes to the town of La Concepción (affectionately called La Concha for short), where Renee and Amanda are working at the town’s public health clinic. Although close to Jinotepe, the students report that it feels like they are in an entirely different part of the country, mostly because the countryside is hillier and has different kinds of farms. This area is fruit and vegetable land; it supplies the bulk of produce to markets in Managua, only about 45 minutes away.

Doug arrived at the health center to find Amanda (a nursing major) and Renee (a pre-med student) in medical gowns busy working with clinic staff, attending patients in separate rooms. Outside the doors waited long lines of patients for medical attention. As a public clinic, all the services offered are free of charge, which is essential given that many Nicaraguans earn less than $2 per day.

The GC students take turns rotating through different rooms and offices at the clinic. Today Amanda was working with a nurse interviewing patients, taking blood pressures, weights, and temperatures. Renee was working in Curación, where the doctors clean wounds, give stitches, remove stitches, and give injections, among other things.

Periodically Amanda and Renee accompany the clinic staff as they go to outlying areas and set up temporary clinics with all the same stations as the permanent clinic in town. People are also creatively taught health prevention, such as washing hands and brushing teeth. On another trip they went to a barrio where several people had contracted dengue. The team sprayed for mosquitoes and went door to door telling the local residents to get rid of containers of standing water, where mosquitoes can breed.

Although work at the clinic begins at 8 a.m., Amanda and Renee start their days at 5:30 a.m. as they accompany Renee’s mother on an hour walk. The stroll through different barrios in town, as well as walk into the countryside on narrow paths. After the walk they have breakfasts in their respective homes, and when they get to work at 8:00, the waiting room is already full of patients.

.

A journal entry from Renee, “Trip to Barrio Panama.”

About the third day of working in the clinic, they asked me if I wanted to accompany them (one doctor and one nurse) to one of the poor barrios that they visit once a month. So I enthusiastically agreed to go to a barrio called Panama.

I expected us to visit different houses to vaccinate children, but instead we announced through a loudspeaker attached to the top of the truck we were driving that we were in the area and would be taking consultations in a room attached to one of the houses in the barrios.

At first, for at least an hour, no one came to the makeshift clinic, which was okay because we had time to setup the table the doctor would use and several chairs outside for the waiting patients. The single room also had a curtain for privacy and an examining table. We had also brought along a scale, an electronic blood pressure measurement device (a donation that turned out not to function at all) and a box full of medicine.

Once people started coming to the clinic around 10 a.m., there was a steady stream of patients until 3 p.m. Most of the patients were women and children, and while I had seen poverty in the clinic in San Juan, these people seemed to be much worse off. Their clothes were very worn and most of them had collections of dirt on them because of the lack of running water in this barrio. However, I was surprised to see that a lot of the women still wore dressy high heels!

.

A journal entry from Amanda, “Living in Nicaragua”

In the beginning of my SST experience my family talked about how many people who came here, such as the Peace Core people, end up living here for years because they fall in love with the country. I really didn’t understand this when I first arrived, but now, after living here longer, I’m starting to understand.

There is so much culture, history, and pride for the country which I really don’t see in the U.S. The main thing that I love that is lacking in the U.S. is the culture. I love how they have so many parties to celebrate whatever they feel like and the parties always include dancing. All the dancing is beautiful, from folklore dancing to discotheque dancing. :)

Another thing that is so different here is the great hospitality and friendliness of Nicaraguans. They always recognize someone new, greet them, and are normally willing to talk for awhile. This is so different from the U.S. where everyone can be stand-offish and just keep to themselves. Here no one has to be alone if they don’t want to be; anyone can be a possible friend.

The great hospitality that our families have shown us on SST has also been a testament to the Nica way of life. Even though they are getting paid weekly, most of the families go above and beyond what they need to. Many families are determined to teach their students new Spanish and culture. I am very thankful for this experience and now I can see how so many people have fallen in love with this country.

The students also like the mountain countryside around Esteli. “Esteli is much more beautiful compared to Carazo,” writes Joshua. “I can look down my street and see mountains in the background. The city is surrounded by nature reserves and more generally accessible mountains.” Some of that beauty, however, is threatened by deforestation, which is affecting the local climate. “My host dad says he remembers 30 years ago when Esteli was about 10 degrees cooler on average.”

In the indigenous Nahuatl language Esteli means “river of blood.” That has been apt for this part of country for much of the past hundred years, starting with the occupation by the U.S. Marines, followed by Sandino’s guerrilla war against the Marines, then the Sandinista guerrilla movement decades later, the Contra war in the 1980’s, and sporadically in the early 1990’s were attacks led by former Contras or Sandinista army members. It has been quiet the past 15 years, and locals want it to stay that way.

With peace the local economy has been growing. Joshua writes that compared to Carazo, “there are an insane number of stores filled with clothes and other things. Additionally, there are computer stores, cell phone shops, car dealerships, motorcycle dealerships, rent-a-car places, and many more commercial services than could be found in Carazo. Some of the stores are multiple stories and air-conditioned.” Local cigar factories are producing one of Esteli’s fastest growing exports, and Joshua reports that those factory workers “can make more money in a week than teachers can make in a month.”

On Thursday morning Maria and Lisa went to the local office of AMNLAE, the largest women’s organization in Nicaragua, where Libby and Karla work at a variety of tasks. They label and file folders, enter data into AMNLAE’s computer database, and help make information posters for the walls of the center. Sometimes they help give charlas (informative talks) about women’s rights in local schools. They also like observing the many different roles and contributions of different workers at the center.

Joshua works at the local chapter of Los Pipitos, the same organization that Alli and Lindsey work for in Jinotega. The Esteli chapter of Los Pipitos has many older students, as well as students without disabilities, and they do a number of fundraising activities. Joshua works in their carpentry shop with previous students from the center and other paid workers (not people with disabilities) sanding, painting, drilling and putting string on wooden birds, as well as making some furniture. They have an order from Germany for 7,000 wooden doves; so far they’ve made 4,000. Libby and Karla had also worked at Los Pipitos earlier, but later switched to AMNLAE, which has been a better assignment for them.

One of the things Joshua likes seeing (and coveting) around rugged Esteli are dirt bikes. “They would be so convenient and nice to have around in a place like this. They are fast enough to ride on the road, rugged enough to zip you through unpaved paths, and economical enough to use regularly. Many times when I am walking around Esteli or on the dirt path to work, one of those beautiful machines zips by and sprays me with a layer of dust. …the college should just buy dirt bikes for everyone.” Well, maybe next year.

.

A journal entry from Libby, “Lights Out”

I have been in Nicaragua for over nine weeks now, and there are certain things I think I will miss; for example, the wonderful fresh fruits and refrescos, hearing and smelling the rain come across the mountains, and the familiar rhythm of greetings in the street. Perhaps most of all (besides the people I’ve come to know), I think I will miss the power outages….

Strange, I know, but they are part of the regular life here. People take them in stride, saying, “Oh, there went the lights again.” In the States, if you lose power, it isn’t more than an hour before you complain to the power company and begin to flip breakers in your basement hoping the lights will come on so life as you know it can continue. That’s if you lose power at all, with all the generators and back up generators, thanks to the Y2K scare.

But here in Nicaragua what I like best about the power outages is the chance it gives you to slow down, to stop, and to engage other people. During the first six weeks in Carazo losing power was a weekly event, if not more. The business of my mom and brothers running around, or TV or radio always on, all of that stopped when the lights went out. We would sit and light a candle for a little light, or I would break out the adored flashlights and we would talk and laugh without a care as to when the lights would return.

Here in Esteli today at my service location, AMNLAE, the lights were off all morning. In the building there are few windows, so it was pretty dark and the computers didn’t work. No lights meant little work. The other staff and I ended up sitting in the conference room waiting for the lights. I was grateful for some time to be able to visit with my co-workers. I asked questions I had wondered about the organization, and they were happy to talk about their work. They also asked us questions about our lives and poked fun at my Spanish. It was nice to have a relaxing morning visiting.

.

A journal entry from Karla M, “Women in Nicaragua” [Karla, an advanced Spanish student, wrote her entry in Spanish. This is an English translation.]

I’m reading the book The Country Beneath My Skin [in Spanish], by Gioconda Belli, and it has inspired me to write my own story about the revolution. Her life is very interesting, and I imagine very difficult in some periods. I want to read more of her books, and I will. It is very fascinating to see the history of the Sandinista revolution from a woman’s point of view. I like to see the changes that she lived through and how they affected her. For example, how she changed from being a docile woman to such an important feminist in Nicaraguan history.

It seems to me that in the revolution many strong women came forward and started working for women’s rights, such as in the organization AMNLAE. Now that I am working here at an AMNLAE office, I am more happy. I like to see how women are working together to improve the lives of other women. Even though we don’t do much, I like to think that we are helping. I hope that next year students will want to work here, because I think that it is a good thing to see, especially for students that want to work with women in the future.

The office organization is not like it is in offices in the U.S., but for me it is important to see that yes, it works. There are many things I’d like to change, such as the way that filing is done, but it works for them. I believe that will help me in the future with working in a business. I believe that for us it can look less organized than a U.S. office, but for them it is the best they can do with the resources they have. It is a good experience for Libby and me.

Not surprisingly, it was rainy when Maria and Lisa arrived at Alli and Lindsey’s home in time for a lunch of cuajada, (a mild Nicaraguan cheese that takes only a couple hours to make from milk), rice and beans, tortillas, and -- made by Alli and Lindsey themselves -- tostones (thick, fried plantain chips). The students are intensely proud that they have also learned to make authentic gallo pinto. Part of the house they live in is a pulperia (small general store), the family’s main source of income.

Lindsey and Alli work for Los Pipitos (The Little Ones), an organization that serves handicapped children and is run by parents. Alli and Lindsey’s family belong to the organization because one of their sons, Jose Ramon, has Down’s syndrome (see Lindsey’s journal entry).

The GC students work mornings as teacher assistants at a special school for handicapped children that is owned by Los Pipitos but staffed by the Nicaraguan government. They say it is hard to “do” much, other than struggle to keep kids inside the room and in their seats. At noon they return home for a 2-hour lunch break, and then work three hours in the afternoons at the local Los Pipitos center. On Mondays the center has dance classes, Tuesdays they do handicrafts, Wednesdays they have Youth Club, Thursdays are for sports, and Fridays they do either painting or computer classes.

Alli and Lindsey have also taken a few trips with Los Pipitos staff, including one to the rural community of Pantasma to set up a new Los Pipitos branch. They were told ahead of time that the trip would take 1.5 hours, but have now learned that in gringo time this really means 3 hours.

.

Journal Entry from Lindsey, “Things to Remember”

Last night I began compiling a list of things in Jinotega that I don’t want to forget. There are many things, but here are just a few:

1. Old Cowboy. Everyday, rain or shine, a really, really old man slowly walks to our pulperia. This man is hunched way over, with a cane in this hand to aid his journey. On rainy days, he wears a big green poncho, but everyday he’s wearing his cowboy hat and boots. I want to know him and his story.

2. Missing mountaintops. Every morning the first thing we do is open the door to our patio and look out. Every morning the top of the mountains are missing because they are covered by clouds. While looking at the mountains you can see the clouds slowly changing shape and moving by. I love mornings in Nicaragua. They are beautiful and innocent and peaceful. They are untampered with and pure. The problems of the day have no effect on the mornings.

3. Jose Ramon. My brother, who has Downs syndrome, laughs a lot. His laugh is unpredictable, contagious and is generally accompanied by his elbows tucked in at this sides and 2 thumbs up. After spending enough time with him, it becomes quite easy to imitate.

4. Sergio. Occasionally, when Alli and I look out at the mountains in the mornings, Sergio, our little 4-year-old neighbor, peers out his door. As soon as he sees us he squeals loudly and then smiles. Sergio has the cutest smile!

Thus far, these are some of the things I don’t want to forget.

.

A Journal Entry from Alli, “Reflections on Faith.”

SST has really strengthened my relationship with God. Before coming here I would say my relationship was fairly consistent. Being here has really solidified that relationship in many ways, including:

1. Before leaving for SST, there were a million things going through my mind that I was thinking about. That included all the things that could go wrong, and I was just feeling really nervous. But a few days leading up to our departure from the States I felt an incredible sense of calm that everything would be alright and that I was ready to go.

2. My family in Jinotepe included a grandma who I quickly became attached to. She was so sweet and so energetic about life. She often talked with me about the Bible and God, and she would always pray for us before we left her house. Her faith was a god example for me.

3. Along with, “Where are you from?” and, “How many hermanos do you have?” I often got asked about my religious affiliation, what it stood for, and what it means. Answering those questions in Spanish has at times been difficult, but it really helped me to realize how faith and my religion have played (and play) a role in my life.

4. I have also experienced some low points in Nicaragua, sometimes dealing with culture shock or homesickness. Sometimes when I think things will just never look up, I find myself able to push through those hard times. That’s when I feel God’s presence.

5. Being here in the mountains has definitely shown the beauty of God’s creation. Everyday I wake up and am in awe as to what I see out of my window. The beauty of this place is amazing, and God’s hand is so evident in nature, especially here in the mountains of Jinotega.

The nickname for Matagalpa is “Pearl of the North,” and it boasts that the surrounding mountains grow the best coffee in Nicaragua.

The “Nutritional Recovery Center for Children” is run by CIEETS, the same organization that Jessica is working with outside Leon. Anna and Jill work at the Center each morning from 9-12, playing with the children, holding the smaller ones, and helping feed them. The Center has room for 25 children. When there are fewer, Jill and Anna go with other workers in the surrounding area to meet different families and look for other malnourished children (see Jill’s journal entry). The Center said there is never a shortage of needy children in the area.

At noon Anna and Jill return home for lunch, and then return to the Center to work until 2:00. During the last two weeks of service they will also work Monday, Wednesday and Friday with another program in the same building to help prepare and serve food for about 75 street kids. Lunch is offered twice a day, at 11 a.m. for kids who go to school in the afternoon, and again at 1 p.m. for kids who aren’t going to school.

.

A journal entry from Jill, “Nica Hospitality.”

I have never seen such incredible hospitality as I have here in Nicaragua. Some people have so little but are willing give something to help someone else.

A recent example of this is when Anna and I visited the campo with the Center. It was pouring down rain, and we had a ways to walk yet. A lady saw us and invited us inside. We were complete strangers. She made her kids get up out of the three chairs they owned so that we could sit until the rain slowed.

Anna had fallen in the mud because it was really slippery. We asked a lady for some water to wash the shirt out, and when she came back she also had a little piece of soap. She insisted on helping get the mud out so it wouldn’t stain Anna’s white shirt. This lady had very little but was willing to give what little soap she had to help Anna. She was a complete stranger but was so worried about Anna and her shirt.

These are events that occur often in Nicaragua. It is something that I love about living here. These events would never occur in the United States, and if they did, they would be on very rare occasions and only certain people would even consider doing it.

How does a country that has so little offer so much to help others? It is something that I will never forget and has changed my opinion about how I will view those in need in the future.

On Friday (July 4) Doug went to visit Joshua T, who is teaching English at a rural public school outside the town of Nindiri. When Doug arrived he found both Joshua and his supervisor, Sidney, teaching classes. Sidney lived in Canada for several years before returning to Nicaragua, and his English is very good; the school is fortunate to have an English teacher as fluent as him.

Today the school was having an unusual schedule because it was actually the start of the mid-year two-week vacation. Although the following week was also a “vacation” week, Joshua and Sidney were still going to come in 3 days to give English classes; many of the students said they still preferred to come some days than stay home all week. This day Joshua was using worksheets with the students, helping them choose the appropriate words in English to complete various sentences.

Since the rural school is a few miles outside of the town of Nindiri, where Joshua lives with his Nica family, they loaned him a bicycle that he rides to work and back each day. At noon there is not enough time to go home for lunch, so he goes with Sidney to a family farm nearby, where they eat packed lunches. A packed lunch in Nicaragua is often still rice and beans, and frequently a piece of meat. Joshua’s mom usually includes 3 lemons, a small bag of sugar, and a smaller bag of salt. Why? To make fresh lemonade, of course. At the farm Sidney’s family started their own reforestation project several years ago, and the trees planted in neat rows are now well grown.

Joshua lives with Walter, Sidney’s brother, and his family at the edge of Nindiri. As the family explained, the town is exceptionally safe, the inhabitants extra friendly, and the central park is the best of any similarly-sized town in Nicaragua.

The town sits on the site of a former indigenous village that was the most densely populated center in the country 1,500 years before the Spanish arrived. “Nindiri” in the Chorotega language means “Hill of the Small Pig.” On the main road in to town there is a statue of Tenderi, who was the Chorotega chief when the Spanish were colonizing the area. When local residents dig in the ground, either to farm to build houses, the frequently turn up pottery and other indigenous artifacts. The town has a museum where many of these are on display.

.

Journal Entry from Joshua, “Architecture and Design in Nindiri.”

One of the things that strikes me about the housing style here, as it did in Carazo, is the proximity of the houses to one another. In many cases, the houses are directly against each other. In these instances these homes are fairly close to the street, and it is very possible to make awkward eye contact with the inhabitants in their living room as one walks by. Furthermore, when someone owns property that is not completely built on (i.e., there is some space available), this property is protected by fences, walls, gates, and/or dogs. This is very different from typical housing styles in the U.S., which are mostly separate, set back from the street, and normally unprotected land. However, that style would probably not work here, as primary considerations are utilization of space and protection from theft.

One aspect of the street design here is that it is almost entirely grid-like. This is not always the case in cities in the U.S. Here, though, as in other Nicaraguan cities or towns, the grid structure helps to give the sense of a system in order to, for example, find an address or a business. Another feature of the roads I find interesting is a lack of stop signs or traffic lights at many intersections. Most of the time I have seen cars stop at intersections, regardless of who might have the right of way. A couple of times, however, I have witnessed near-accidents. This feature has most directly affected me as I walk through the city, and as I see a car approaching the intersection where I am, and my uncertainty whether or not the car will stop, or if I will have to wait.

Leon, Nicaragua’s second largest and second oldest city (founded in the early 1600,s), has a number of museums, art galleries, and buildings with colonial architecture. Within view of an impressive range of 6-7 volcanoes, it sits on the country’s flat Pacific coastal plain. That low elevation means that it is #1 in Nicaragua when it comes to heat (see Tricia’s journal entry).

Because school starts each day for Tricia and Tara at 7 a.m., their days start around 5-5:30. They either walk or take a public bus to the school, where they get their teaching assignment for the day. That varies to include different levels and whether or not they team-teach a class. By noon they are finished for the day and return home.

Since Nicaragua’s mid-year two-week school vacation is in July, normally Tricia and Tara would not have classes to teach. However, Maria helped them explore some options, and they decided to organize some additional vacation English classes for two hours each day during the first week. The next week two groups of students will have a dialogue competition in English. Since the mid-year school vacation falls at a time when parents don’t have work vacation, students are usually glad for a study option that is preferable to staying at home the entire two weeks.

Maria also visited with both families. Tara’s family (see her journal entry) lives outside of town, although her father works in the city’s municipal offices. Her mother is a teacher. Tricia lives in the city, where her mother works with a musical group and frequently with different work brigades that come to Nicaragua from abroad.

Thursday morning (July 3) Tricia and Tara took a 45-minute bus ride to the countryside with Maria to visit Jessica in Chacraseca. At Jessica’s house they met her mother, a community leader who works for CIEETS. In the words of Jessica, her mother “cooks, cleans, and sews (for her own family and for others), she pulls water out of the well, she kills and de-feathers chickens to eat, and she never seems to sleep.” Together they enjoyed a lunch of arroz aguada, a thick rice soup usually flavored with onions and tomatoes. Like the homes of students in Boaco and Ometepe, the floors are dirt, but meals are served at lunchtime to whomever happens to be in the house at the time. The house’s electricity had been knocked about by Alma, but was now back (see Jessica’s journal entry).

One of the CIEETS projects is to reforest a former sugar cane field with 2,000 trees. Jessica helps in the tree nursery, clears land for planting seedlings, digs the holes for planting, and waters the seedlings.

True to form in the campo, her day starts at 5:30 a.m., and work with the trees starts at 6:00. Field work ends sometime before noon, and then after lunch the rest of the day is spent helping her mother with housework. One of the jobs is getting the ‘raw material’ for the house’s biogas stove (see photos).

.

Journal Entry from Tricia, “Leon’s Environment”

When I think of the natural world surrounding me here in Leon, one word inevitably jumps into mind: hot. Really hot. Many native Nicaraguans, as well as my trusty Nicaraguan tour book, told me that Leon is nestled in the hottest part of the country. Given this information, I feel as though I should have been more prepared. I had temporarily forgotten how hot Jinotepe had been, before the rains started, but now I remember.

Other than that, there really isn’t much to complain about. The landscape surrounding the city is gorgeous, like many other parts of the country. Yesterday we went outside of town to the finca [farm], which is owned by someone related to my family. It was pretty and green and crawling with cows and goats and horses. However, in the campo [countryside], more so than the city, I could see devastation caused by that lousy tropical storm. Many trees had been torn up, walls and roofs of houses destroyed, and many previously clean water sources that were destroyed have yet to be renewed.

Currently, I would say that recovering from Alma is a predominate ecological concern for the people of Leon. Much of the damage has yet to be cleaned up or rebuilt, and many people are too concerned with their day to day survival to do much about it.

.

Journal Entry from Tara, “Becoming a Daughter”

However difficult the transition and adjustments have been for me coming to Leon and maneuvering frequent changes in schedules as well as other confusions, my host family has helped me pull through.

I have been overwhelmed by their generosity. They insist that I use their cell phones to call my U.S. family at least once a week. Yet they allow me to wash my own clothes and dishes.

They give me my own space but include me in things when I don’t appear to be doing anything else. This is actually more complex than it sounds. I always want to participate in anything that goes on, so I try to make myself available as often as possible. But obviously there isn’t something every moment of every day, and when I get bored I have to carefully monitor the time I spend reading so that I don’t close myself off too much.

Obviously our relationship isn’t perfect. I still have trouble communicating (especially when they mumble or use regional slang), but we spend a lot of time together.

I have caught on to the daily routine but I am still often surprised by an activity or guest that I was unaware of.

And, as with my Jinotepe family, I wish I could communicate my full range of emotions and personality. For this I have come to rely more on non-verbals, such as facial expressions and games. Physical activity – especially with my siblings and other children – has been very helpful for me in creating bonds.

One way or another, bonds have been formed thus far. Last night I was introduced, to a new person, as “nuestra otra hija [our other daughter], Tara Mendoza.” This meant a lot to me. The new last name came about partially as the result of a general inability to pronounce my actual last name, but still it’s good to know that, as they say, as long as I’m here, I’m a Mendoza.

.

Journal Entry from Jessica Fridley, “Life without Electricity”

When I got here the electricity was still out from when [Tropical Storm] Alma came through (which was the day before Mother’s Day in Nicaragua). It was fine with me. I didn’t know life in the campo with electricity anyway, and I liked being able to see the stars in the evening. The only downside was the fridge didn’t work and the only water we could drink had to be brought in from Leon.

The day before Nicaragua’s Fathers Day the water came back on for everyone, and some people in the community got their lights back (but not us). We got our lights back the day after Father’s Day.

It was pretty exciting. All the lights were turned on, the TV worked, and cell phones could be recharged. Since radios are battery-powered, it wasn’t that much louder with the TV, but people talked less and just sat and watched TV more.

When I’m trying to sleep at night, I like it better without electricity, but at any other point in the day I could go either way. That is good because the lights randomly go out at times.

Living here without electricity and with dirt floors I wonder what kind of house/apartment I’ll live in after college. I’ve always been down to earth and not wanting a big place to live in. I do know that I want a working bathroom (tub and shower) and a garden of some kind, even if it is in pots on the window.

After leaving Candelaria, Maria and Doug Schirch traveled a couple hours to visit Maria B (to distinguish her from Maria Schirch and the many other Maria’s in the country, her Nica family called her Maria Cristina) and Michael in San Onofre. This is a small, rural community where the students are living in rustic conditions (homes with dirt floors, outhouses, etc.) similar to those in the previous two service visits. Maria B and Michael are working with Provadenic (http://www.provadenic.org/ ), a Christian organization that trains local residents to improve health in poor, rural communities with projects in preventative health and improved agricultural techniques.

As Doug and Maria Schirch discovered during the 45-minute walk from the highway to San Onofre, it’s a good thing we let Maria Cristina and Michael get the experience of hiking up Mombacho several weeks ago; this hike was just as steep a climb, although only half as long. Like many rural communities, all the houses are strung out along a single street, although in San Onofre this street runs along one side of a short valley. Above and below the street, as well as on the other side of the valley, are small parcels of land where the local residents plant corn, beans, or different kinds of sorghum. At a slightly higher elevation than Candelaria (where we were yesterday), the extra rainfall in this area means the residents of San Onofre have a little better standard of living.

We met Maria Cristina’s parents, Teodoro and Timotea. The latter has been trained by Provadenic to promote health programs in the local community. At Michael’s house we met Juan Pablo (at 26 years old, he’s more of a brother than a father to Michael), who has been trained by Provadenic to promote agricultural and dental programs in the area. Both Maria Cristina and Michael have worked together on the different Provadenic activities, such as helping Juan Pablo measure the height of bean plants in different experimental fields to find optimal growing conditions. But as Michael mentions in his journal entry below, no two days have been the same so far.

In the afternoon we were able to watch Maria Cristina and Michael assist Timotea with a health talk at the local elementary school, teaching basic hygiene to the students. Because the GC students have time to do additional volunteer work in the community, Maria Schirch spoke with the director of the school to see if she could use help from Maria Cristina and Michael in the classes, which she was very glad to accept.

Later in the afternoon Teodoro took us to his bean field on the other side of the valley, where we could get a beautiful vista of the surrounding countryside. It was so beautiful there that we dallied too long as rain clouds approached, so that on the way back we got caught in a downpour before we could make it to Juan Pablo’s house. However, in rural communities it is common to jump into the closest house when it is raining, without asking permission, and then once inside you introduce yourself and chat while you wait for the skies to clear. During a break in the rain we went back to Juan Pablo’s house, but when the rain continued we spent the rest of the afternoon watching a DVD of “A Bug’s Life.” Cell phones, TV’s and DVD/VHS players (old but functional) are found in some of the places you might have least expected them.

The next morning Maria Cristina and Michael observed the town’s combined 1st and 2nd grade class so that they could begin assisting the teacher. Because the school is not large enough to have separate classes for each grade, the teachers have to juggle multiple grades in the same class, which is why they are happy for extra help in checking student work, etc.

.

Maria Cristina

“Emergency Medical Trips in San Onofre”

The village where I am living now is relatively far away from the highway, and this presents some problems for the people who live here. To reach my village, one has to walk up a rocky jeep trail for almost an hour. Vehicles make the climb rarely; horses more often are used to carry things up and down. There are very few options for anyone who is disabled or sick. But the people here have learned how to get by.

If anyone has a serious illness and needs to be taken to the hospital, the whole town helps. They tie a hammock onto a large pole, and two men at a time take turns carrying it down the mountain. Up to 30 men run along with them, each taking short turns so as not to get tired. They can make the trip down in 15 minutes, half of what it takes me to reach the bottom.

They do the same with women about to give birth. When the contractions start, they carry the woman down the mountain. If the baby comes quickly, the woman sometimes gives birth on the side of the mountain, in the hammock.

Until recently, after reaching the highway, one had to take a bus into the nearest city an hour away, and from there a taxi to the hospital. The trip in total could take over two hours. Babies have been born on the bus and in the taxi. Thankfully, they now have an agreement with the hospital that the hospital will send out an ambulance to wait on the highway, even though normally the ambulance wouldn’t go so far.

For the people who live here, this procedure is normal. They have found ways to be creative and make do with what they have.

.

Michael

“Finding My Place”

So, as I predicted at the beginning, I’m certainly starting to find my place as time passes. The general smallness of the community and isolation from the rest of the world don’t seem nearly as intimidating now as it did at first. In fact, I’m really starting to appreciate the lack of traffic and ambient manufactured noise.

The reason things are going so much better now than they were at the beginning isn’t so much that I’m developing a routine; we’re almost a quarter of the way done with service, and I have yet to do the same thing twice. The reason things are going better is that I’m starting to understand where I fit into this small community. I still don’t really ever know exactly what’s going on, but I’m getting used to being clueless and simply going with the flow.

For example, usually on weekday mornings we go over to Maria’s house at around 8:30, but for some reason yesterday morning my host and boss Juan Pablo was content to sit in the living room and talk with me for three hours about political parties, cell phones, and the fact that I need to be forward with the family when I don’t like certain things. As far as I know, this wasn’t the plan for yesterday morning, but we take things as they come.

Like church, for example. We usually go to church for at least two hours in the evenings, but sometimes we don’t. Other times, like yesterday afternoon, someone will wander by the house and let me know that not only will I be going to church, but Maria and I will be singing special music in Spanish and English. This isn’t anything to stress about though, because we have all afternoon to practice.

Really, nothing is worth stressing about because there’s time for everything, and if there isn’t, we can make it. More than anything else, I’m going to miss a lifestyle in which every part of a schedule is flexible and relationships always take priority.