Happy Birthday

There are tons of things that happen every week that I look around for someone else to find what is going on as ridiculous as I do, and then realize I'm all alone in that assessment and end up laughing to myself. Like the one time I saw a skinny man who spoke no English wearing a shirt that said, “I (heart sign) my curves”. Generally when this happens I think of you guys and make a mental note to tell you next time we talk, but of course my memory isn't what it use to be. I blame the malaria meds. Instead we talk about gossip and family and how I'm going to the beach again on a break from work. Well lucky for you I went to a anniversary of a high school with a note pad and this blog in mind. Apparently Nicaraguans find every possible reason to have a party. It's like being in college again, but less functional. Instead of having a super hero pub crawl just because it's a random Tuesday in January and we haven't gone out in awhile, it's a annual rodeo weekend that takes a week to prepare for, which of course means no school or work. At least the end of the pub crawl ended with us crawling to the library to print out a paper for Monday morning. This week's distraction was a high school anniversary in a neighboring town. We already had the one for our town a couple of weeks ago so I knew what to expect, lots of kids, no classes, fried food and, of course, a beauty contest. Really I can't think of a better way to say “Happy Birthday” to a high school than to parade awkward adolescences in front of all of their classmates in little skirts and judge them. And apparently neither can Nicaraguans. Actually a beauty contest seems to be the preferred activity for every event. I've already been to 4 and I've only been here for 6 months. Usually the contestants are 13-16 years old, skinny and really good at popping their hips to accent their cat walk. The pageants also usually invite the old winners to do a dance. Trying to get all the time out of these girls that they can. Today's event started with such group of girls doing a dance with short shorts, belly showing tops and a cowboy hat. Generally I would think this is awkward enough, but one of the girls was slightly heavier than the rest. I'm not trying to discriminate against fat people, but I know I wouldn't want to be in that outfit, well, ever. I couldn't stop staring at that one unlucky girl. And her belly kept winking back at me. It was like those jean commercials where the belly buttons are singing “I'm coming out”, only less singable. I broke my stare to look around and, per usual, no one thought it was weird. I had myself a chuckle and looked forward as the actual contestants came out. The pageant went on like all the rest, traditional outfit, “sports wear” which is pretty much just a sports bra and jean shorts, “fantasy” where the girls get to make their own dresses and at last the evening gowns at 11am. I didn't stay to see who won because the noon bus came and I was more interested in getting back for lunch. And that was my “work” for the day. Bonding with my co-teachers and learning a little more about the Nicaraguan psyche.

Hokey Pokey

So the week did not have a stellar start. The business adventure that I had embarked on with the women's group was not successful on Monday. They didn't sell all of their cupcakes and, from my observations, didn't really try that hard. As a result they had to pay for most of them themselves. Wednesday's class was out of control and the kids didn't seem to care about the material. They were shocked when I took away the notes they were passing and the photo album they had their noses in. Worst of all the teacher didn't seem to care either. On top of it all, my teacher canceled the class for next Monday because she's "sick" again. I keep trying to tell her, she's not sick, she's pregnant and they're called appointments, because you can schedule them, like for when you don't have class to teach.... Wooo sah, wooo sah. So I decided as a way to keep myself from spontaneously combusting, I would cancel English Club on Thursday afternoon and just take a moment to catch up on my reading. Just as I was easing into my hammock 6 little girls showed up at my house. "Carolina, are we having class today?" I told them no and thought they would just run a long, but they were persistent. I figured since I usually complain about not having enough work, I should take advantage of work when it is knocking on my door, or in this case surrounding my hammock. I changed out of my soccer shorts and headed to the school. Since I wasn't planning on having class that day, I didn't have anything planned, but I could tell these girls were pretty much starting from square one. We pronounced "Hello How are you?" and "My name is..." for about 20 minutes. When I could tell they were as done with that practice as I was we started with another topic, body parts. I asked one girl to draw a picture of a person on the board and then labeled the important parts. I could already tell their minds were saturated with "Hello, how are you?" so we ended the day with a fun song, the "Hokey Pokey". They put their left foots in, their left foots out, and really got into it when they shook it all about. I'm pretty sure they didn't memorize all of the body parts there and then, but then I also realized that wasn't the point. They did the hokey pokey and that's what it was all about. I know, I know really cheesy, but it really turned my week around. I can't make kids memorize all the common parts of the body in 5 minutes, or 5 hours, but I am helping in a little way and maybe not even in ways I can see now. And now friends and family that is what my life in Nicaragua is all about.

Rabayah's visit

Sorry for the lack of witty commentary, but I promise to have a wonderfully witty blog up shortly.

The Hat!

Somoto Canyon and other fun sights of Nicaragua

A brand new year, a brand new hat

Back in Nicaragua. It was a little harder to leave the US this time. Not only was my little sister telling me how awesome it would be if I just lived in San Francisco, and it would be, but I also had a crippling pain in my back which made traveling for 9 hours seem that much more daunting. Luckily I was able to sleep most of the way. I even got to practice my Spanish with a lady, sure to get lost in the Houston airport without me she told me, on her way home to Nicaragua. It was nice to chat for a little while, but as soon as I got back on the plane I was fast asleep again. I arrived safe and sound in Managua ready for a smooth transition back to my site, but my pain didn't go away so easily. After a few tests it was concluded that I had a UTI, but just to be safe I stayed an extra day to get an ultrasound of my kidney too. I was told by the doctor that I should drink plenty of water so it would be easier to see my organs, including my bladder. So with a full bladder I went to the doctor, only to have him push the ultrasound wand into my bladder making me have to pee. As I'm holding it in, he asks me to describe my illness to him in Spanish. At this point I had spent 3 days in Managua watching cable TV in English. The most Spanish I had used was in the Houston airport, but even at that he said my Spanish was good. I think he was just being nice, hoping I wouldn't pee all over his floor. While his assistant was typing up the report to be sent back to the Peace Corps, he explained to me that everything looked fine. Then he went on to tell me that I should get a hat, a large hat. My skin is very delicate, he told me, and the sun is clearly damaging it, he could see from the redness in it. I didn't really know how to respond. How does this have to do with my kidney? And how can you even see in the lighting of the ultrasound room? And more importantly, don't you know I hate hats?! Hate them, on me, on other people, in movies flying away inciting a romantic dash to retrieve it. Good riddance I say, let the hat fly free! So I got a hat. But I was determined not to spend money on a hat, so I just found on in the Peace Corps office. Of course it was the windiest day in the history of Managua and my hat flew off as soon as I left the building, but no romantic ran after it, just me, looking like an idiot who wears a hat on a windy day. I carried the hat all the way back to my site, only to leave it on the bus on accident. Maybe it was fate, but now I was committed to making this hat thing work. So finally I did the unthinkable, I bought a hat. I bargained the lady down to a dollar thinking she'd never go for it, and before I knew it she was shoving it on my head and taking my money. So now I have a new look, a new hat, and hopefully less skin cancer. Happy new hat!

In the Vos

This weekend wasn't great. I missed the bus to the city on Saturday which means I still don't have a phone. Staying at home, I was pretty bored and realized I haven't really made friends in the community yet. We did go to the river which was fun, but I got sunburnt even though I put sunscreen on. I watched way too much TV, in English and in Spanish. The only upside was that I didn't feel too bad about not getting anything accomplished work wise because it was the weekend. But after that nothingness of a weekend, I had a mini break through tonight with my host family. On Sunday night for whatever reason, my host family decided to ask me all those questions you usually ask when first meeting someone. We talked about my family, my education, plane ticket prices, future plans and, my favorite topic, Africa. I answered all their questions easily about myself and family. When we got to talking about Africa, I told them as much as I could and then, when my vocabulary started to fail me, I shared videos and pictures. All gathered around my computer to see videos of Dante dancing and the women making shea butter. It was great to share this with them, something unique to me, which is some what of a challenge being the 4^th volunteer here. There's the first volunteer, the one that is getting married to a Nicaraguan, the one that's already here and now the one that's been to Africa. The best part about the whole evening was the switch from formal to informal, something not as recognizable in English. They started using “vos” (what they use instead of “ch”) tense with me and dropped the “usted”, a sign of closeness. This was something easily adapted by the teenagers in and out of my classes, but until now had been reserved by my host family. With the intensity of the rapid fire questions and the excitement of African photos, I didn't even realize the “vos” until after we were done talking and I was on my way to bed. Did they just?....Yes they did I'm in the “vos”!