Ok, I think enough time has passed since the “accidental deletion” fiasco so that I feel like I can tackle my blog again. It’s about time! My last real post was in October. Sorry about that.
I’m sitting here in my room in Nicaragua, back from my trip to Austin over the holidays. I’m wearing jeans, a hoodie, an infinity scarf (thanks Shannon!) tucked into the hoodie with the hood up. I also have those fluffy-type socks on and am sitting under a blanket sipping tea to keep warm. Not exactly how you pictured me in Nicaragua? Welcome to January in San Rafael del Norte.
Today I’ve just finished working on preparations for a presentation that I’ll be doing on ‘how to make papier-mâché’ at our upcoming In-Service Training. About 20 environmental education volunteers will be attending along with their counterparts (local Nicaraguan teachers with whom we work). I made a miniature model volcano and am hoping that it will eventually dry with this very cool and damp weather we’re having.
Although I was able to end the day on a positive and productive note, I was a bit frustrated with the Nicaraguan-ness of the start of the day. I slept in until a liberal 8:30am, and then began my day with a workout and oatmeal breakfast. Not bad. After taking a lukewarm bucket shower, I was leisurely chatting on the phone with another volunteer in my robe with the towel on my head when Sara yelled in Spanish “Excuse me Mariel, but you need to get out because they’re fumigating!” My PCV friend knew what this meant and said “you wanna call me back?” “Yep!” I said as I dropped the phone and threw on jeans and a sweatshirt and hastily ran out the door. As I did so, there was already a man, bandana wrapped around his face in futile protection, walking through the house towards the back patio with the fumigation blower back pack.
I’ll stop here and explain. The national health ministry sends these men around towns and cities, either with trucks or backpacks equipped with diesel spewing “fumigators” to go into every house and alley and spray them to kill pests. Usually this is done as a precaution, but is done more often in the areas where Dengue, Malaria, or other mosquito borne diseases are found. Therefore, we luckily rarely have to deal with this toxic interruption here in San Rafael. They are supposed to give warning, but in my experience that has not been the case.
As I ran out the front door, I realized that I had not pulled my door shut and watched in horror as this man walked into my room and sprayed a fine mist of diesel over everything in my room. Helplessly I thought “guess I’m not going to get to finish that cup of coffee.” After he exited the house, we closed the door behind him and stood outside in the drizzle. (They suggest that you wait outside for an half an hour.) I tried not to imagine how much damage could have been done, or how I had just swept and mopped the floor.
After about 15 minutes I decided I just didn’t want to be half-dressed outside imagining the worst anymore and went in to assess the situation. The floor and surfaces were indeed slippery with diesel, and my coffee was a dead soldier. I opened the windows, pulled off my sheets and started to do laundry. As I did that, the electricity went out. C’est la vie, right?
Anyway, I’d like to update you on the past couple of months that I missed, although I will try to do it in a relatively clipped fashion. Let’s see, where to start….
At the end of October, I took my first trip to Boaco in the central eastern part of Nicaragua. First I stopped in Boaco city to visit with a PCV friend who’s in the English language sector. That afternoon I alternated between observing one of her after school English classes and reading my newly acquired book by Amy Poehler. It was a good read and I recommend it…..can’t think of the title, but it’s new and you have internet – look it up! Ellen then had a community class, so I went with another Boaco volunteer to her house, then to buy some stuff to make dinner. The three of us made a delicious veggie curry and it was great to hang out with them. The following day I was able to help Ellen and her site-mates work on a World Map that they started with secondary students. It’s now finished and looks great!
That afternoon I headed out to Camoapa, Boaco which is about an hour outside of the capitol city to visit another environment volunteer from my group. She had organized a field trip with her ecological brigade to some caves outside of town, and I felt lucky that the timing was right for me to go with them. The morning of the field trip we walked to the meeting spot, and Claire was pleased with the turnout of both kids and adults. She had arranged for a milk truck to take us about an hour to the point where we would hike to the caves. Everyone stood in the back and held on for dear life. At one of the many stops where the guys were picking up or dropping off containers of milk while careening up and down a very bumpy road, two little girls hopped on the back. One of them stood right next to me, and I couldn’t stop myself from putting my arm around her to secure her. She looked up at me, most likely wondering what the hell I was doing since she rides this truck all the time, and I just told her it made me feel better. Gringa loca, I know.
Once we reached the caves, it was worth the bumps and sore biceps and muddy hike. What an absolutely beautiful part of the earth is Boaco! We crawled through caves and bats flew around, and Claire did some really neat activities with the kids. I noticed a personal language milestone on this trip as well. All day Claire and I had been speaking Spanish for the benefit of the kids and other adults, but at one point we were standing at the side of the road looking at a small turtle she had picked up when we both realized that we were speaking Spanish to each other with no one else around. We laughed, but I thought “Shit. That’s gotta mean something.”
I headed back home, happy having visited another department of Nicaragua and good friends. Shortly thereafter I interpreted for a group of doctors, nurses and good Samaritans from Project Cure at my rural school. They did general consultations and made kids smile. After the clinic, we headed to the zip line just outside of my town for some fun.
Around this same time, I was finally able to go out to my friend Karelia’s husband’s family farm. She had been inviting me out since almost the day I arrived in San Rafael, but weather or scheduling always prevented us. A Norwegian volunteer, Sahand, and Karelia’s husband Hector joined us on the trek. We left the house at a bright and early 5:30am and hiked about 45 minutes to get to the farm. We hung around and looked at all of the animals. It was a really lovely day and nice to get away from the “hustle and bustle” of my rural town.
After the last couple of weeks of class, I headed to Leon to visit my old site-mate for Thanksgiving. Her host family has a beautiful home and she was hosting a dinner for nearby volunteers. There were about 10 of us, plus another 7 or so from the host family. We did a damn good job with the food, and while eating everyone had their turn to say what they were thankful for. Joanna’s host-grandpa made everyone teary when he told us that he was “grandpa” to all of us since we are away from our homes and families, that he had been sorely missing his wife, but that having us all there made him very happy. Still dry eyed? You might be dead inside. (Or maybe you just had to be there.)
Early the next morning, a fellow yogi and I headed out to the beach town of Jiquilillo, Chinandega to the yoga retreat that we had helped plan as members of the Peer Support Network. It was a trek out there, but again, worth the trouble. We found ourselves staying in very basic but comfortable huts right next to the beach. Chinandega is known as the hottest part of Nicaragua, but we were thankfully spared testing that, as the beach breeze kept us cool. While there we met some folks who were working with an organization that helps to conserve the sea turtles in the area. They showed us some things they were trying to help the eggs hatch as well as some baby turtles that hadn’t successfully made it out to sea. One of the women was a visiting German, and I asked her if she was a biologist. She told me “no, I’m a social worker” and I said “for turtles?” Ha! I’ll be here all day, folks.
The beach out there was beautiful, and a few days of vegetarian food and yoga really did me good. It was nice to be on a trip with some like-minded folks and to get to know some more volunteers. I even learned something new: doing yoga on the beach kinda sucks. It’s definitely not as romantic as it looks on instructional tapes. Lesson learned. Great trip anyway!
Directly after the retreat, Environment sector had a professional “ideas exchange,” and then I returned to site to finish up with my grant paperwork and start (or continue) the countdown to my trip to Austin!
As some of you know, I wrote a grant proposal in order to make ovens for 12 local bakers with a local counterpart. Once the grant was approved by the Peace Corps, it was posted online where friends and family could donate. I originally asked for about $780, and after about a week was informed by someone in Washington that I was “overfunded” by about $500. Which means that not only was I funded quickly, but somehow had received substantially more than I had asked for. Wow! My cup was not only full, but overflowing! I told her that I could put that extra money to good use, so I set to re-figuring the numbers and re-signing the forms and re-submitting. Before I could finish doing that, she contacted me again and said that I was now about $800 dollars overfunded. Geeeeeez. They pulled my grant offline, I re-submitted my grant in the amount of $1660ish and it is now has final approval. I am waiting for the money in my account, but thanks to the generosity of many friends, family and strangers we will be able to greatly improve the lives of 15 families here in my town. Fantastic! Thank you so much if you contributed in any way! We plan to start in February.
December 18th I left my house in Nicaragua at 4am and arrived at my parents’ house in Austin, TX at 10:30pm. I’m not sure which was more of a pain in the butt, the 4 hour bus ride from my town to Managua, or just getting through immigration and customs in the Houston airport. First, a man grilled me about the cigars that I told him I had and asked me if I had been present when they were made. Uh, no. Did they have fancy packaging or plastic packaging? Um, I bought them in Nicaragua, they have fancy plastic packaging. What? And then while I waited in the 45 minute – 1 hour line to pass through customs I started sweating. Why? Because I was carrying a backpack, a duffel bag and a market bag full of ceramics. Between having come from Nicaragua and holding this weird looking bag while sweating profusely I thought for sure I had “strip search” written on my forehead. But no. The man asked me why I was in Nicaragua, and when I replied “Peace Corps,” he simply stamped the card and said “Happy Holidays.”
My mom had looked up information on a Vietnamese restaurant close to the Houston airport, so we went directly there to eat. It was absolutely delicious and a special treat since Asian foods of all kinds are my favorite and are very scarce (as you might imagine) in Nicaragua. During the time I was in Austin, I think I had Vietnamese food about 5 times. Not quite enough to hold me over until next November, but I’ll take what I can get.
The trip home was full of eating and meeting up with friends while still trying to spend lots of time with my family. I think I was able to achieve a nice balance, and by the end of the week realized that I just wasn’t going to be able to pack everything into the 2 weeks I was home. Some highlights included seeing Willie Nelson at ACL Live, a subdued but perfect NYE at home, and spending my last day in town playing video games with my nephew.
I’ve heard stories of culture shock when PCVs visit home, but I was surprised to feel very little of what I would describe as shock. I think I can attribute some of this to the fact that I have traveled independently and been away from home for an extended period before. However I did have some moments where I had to laugh to myself to think about how this experience has changed the way I see things.
Example A: my first full day in town was perfect. I went with my mom to get a cut and highlight from our friend Leslee. It was great to chat with her and be in my old stomping grounds. This felt normal and nice. Then we went to my old school, where we unfortunately didn’t run into as many old colleagues as I had hoped, but went to a new place with my buddies to have some lunch and beer and chat. This felt normal and great. At one point I was ordering a beer from a transgender woman when she handed me an iPad to sign my name to my tab with my finger. This felt normal…IN MY OLD LIFE! I smiled and laughed inside because that right there was (first of all, SO Austin) so out of place in my daily life at the moment.
Example B: some of my best girls and I went for a walk around Town Lake on the end where there is a new boardwalk. We had a delicious lunch at Bouldin Creek and picked up some raw juice before the walk. By the time we got back around we were all doing a bit of a pee-pee dance. As we came down the ramp I spotted one of those city park bathrooms, mentioned it, and headed for it. Both of my friends said “Ummmmm, no. I can’t do that.” And we waited until we got to the next spot. If you only knew the places I have squatted this last year, girls, if you only knew.
Heading back to Nicaragua was not nearly as tough as it was the first way round. I wasn’t sure how I would feel at the end of 2 weeks surrounded by familiar friends, food, and sounds. I knew that I was very adaptable, and that I had begun to feel over the course of the past year that Nicaragua is my second home, but how would I feel once out of that? Ready to get back! I surprised myself with the facility of the transition, although it will always be tough to say goodbye to my parents at the airport.
My flight was about 2 hours delayed on the way home, but I took the opportunity to have one last Starbucks and download some more apps. I spent a night in a nice hotel in Managua, and then headed for home. Since I’ve been back, little hiccups like the fumigation incident, on and off power, and a stomach-bug scare have already tested my resolve, but I’m letting it slide off my back. After all, as I sit here in the dark with my mini Coleman lantern lighting my room, I’m pretty comfortable with what I’ve got.
I’ll do my best to be consistent with monthly updates in these last 10 (OMG) months of my service. Thanks for reading.
Love from Nicaragua,
M x
Mariel's Adventure Blog! 
It’s ironic that you had to recreate your blog in Nicaragua because of a computer glitch while you were home, but I’m glad you caught up! I hope the rest of your “meatball” cookies weren’t ruined by the spray! Love from Mom