Did I forget to blog?

No, i just havent had anything interesting to say really. I’m facing what I’d call my three month slump…well, plateau more so than slump. I’ve settled in. I’ve met people. things are familiar, but still foreign. I’ve stopped being any sort of novelty, most people don’t realize im a gringa anyway. people have stopped reaching out. I’m used to life. im succumbing to the lonely side of living in a “city”, and I felt this way while living in boston, the ol’ lots-of-people-around-but-I’m-still-alone feeling, and I really don’t like it. so I am on the hunt for new projects. I have a few organizations that I am looking to speak with in the near future. especially as the school year is ending here, if I don’t make something new happen, December and January will not only be boring, but I’d be letting down myself and Peace Corps. and I need to do something to get myself out of my own head! which is where I am trapped. which is where the lack of blogging stems. all of my thoughts are stuck, or blurry, or manifest themselves in the really absurd dreams I’ve been having lately, full of giant psychedelic millipedes, where the settings are almost always airports, restaurants or hotels, and strangers, that is, mostly new and imagined faces populate the stories. I wont delve much further into my own scary grey matter. My love life is just about the only interesting, or at least ever-changing, I dare say complicated situation. and while it does a good job at occupying my thoughts, I’d much rather be focusing my energy into my work than trying to translate text messages and untangle the thoughts and intentions of Nicaraguan guys. three months is too soon for the banality to sink in, right? I know there is more to discover, and I know my own disposition to laziness has added to this slump. plateau? whatever. it is something I am trying to work on here. I’ve also recently felt first hand the wrath of projects falling apart. and it is terribly disappointing. my aspiring business owner has seemingly disappeared. ballet class has been delayed. I expected it, they told us to during training, projects fall apart, people lose interest, priorities shift, it happens more often than not. so I am not surprised or heartbroken, just disappointed, and trying to figure out what to do differently next time.

So I am on my way to niquinohomo tomorrow for a weeklong peace corps language workshop. I think it will help bring some me back to some sort of “sensicality”(did you know that though nonsensical is a word, sensical is not? and I think that should change); the closest thing to going home as I can find here. I can escape for a little bit from the inanity, from this feeling of being used, and do something productive. I cant wait to see my nica family. They have called me every month since I moved to Jinotega, just to check in. I am so thankful for them.

I think I will make stuffed peppers for dinner tonight. Oh, I guess since my last blog I have moved. I now rent a room with a different old lady. I can use the kitchen to make my own food, which has improved my QOL immensely. The woman is just precious, little, and has this sweet little voice resulting from her dentures that don’t quite fit her correctly. Among the other tenants are two teachers; a girl about my age with her 3 year old daughter who has the most hilarious laugh and spends all day calling at her mom, “¡Mamiiii! ¡Mamiiii!....te amo,” it really couldn’t be more adorable; a young guy who works at the gym and lets me go for free; and Beau from the Bronx, a retired guy who I can get my Yankees updates from in between talks with me parents. I feel a lot less lonely here, it’s very comfortable. And I have my own bathroom. I would upload photos of the new place, but I cant seem to locate my memory card reader, so those pictures will stay stuck on my camera for a while longer. You’ll also get to see my room flooded with about 1 inch of water after a torrential downpour that just overloaded the drains here (fortunately I was home and nothing but my floor got wet). Oh, and a giant caterpillar, look forward to that too.

I have a crush on William Kamkwamba

And so should you. As I lay in bed, listening to the drunks outside my house belt out…well, i dont know exactly what, ranchero maybe, could be a mangled version of some 80s power ballad that they love so much here in nicaragua, i just finished watching a TED talk by William Kamkwamba, a young man from Malawi who brought himself and his family electricity and water by constructing windmills outside his home. he was entirely self-taught, garnering his knowledge from the few physics and energy books he could get his hands on (this was actually a follow-up presentation and my second introduction to William, as he gave his first TED talk two years ago; he makes an impact each time). I love his story. It gives me faith in the human mind and spirit. It emboldens the confidence I have for development in Africa (in another TED talk, one presenter claims that by the end of this decade there will emerge an Einstein out of Africa, and my bet is now on William Kamkwamba). (another side note: yes, I have been watching tons of TED talks as they are the fasting loading video podcasts I can get on my slow and sporadic wireless connection). It gives a short pang to my heart that I am here and not there with peace corps. I am hopeful that the same spirit exists here in Nicaragua.
Perhaps it is. The other week, the director of the school I work at here in Jinotega approached me asking if I might be able to translate a document for him. So I said, sure, id take a look. Then I was handed a 45 page manual on how to construct a wind turbine. I’m still staring at it, wondering how I can make this 45 page document, written in English, relevant to this school (and also wondering why the group from the United States who came to build the first turbine would leave this 45 page document with a group of people who do not speak a word of English).
I also wonder if this killer headache of mine will ever go away, if the boy I am tutoring in english will ever grasp the “th” sound, if my high school students will ever take me seriously, if I’ll ever digest the mass quantities of tortillas I have been eating, if I’ll ever have a fluid conversation in Spanish, if cindy lauper really is as amazing as Nicaraguans believe.
So I am going use this crush I have on William Kamkwamba, and believe, just believe, and maybe he’ll notice and we can run away to Africa together in August 2011.

book reviews

Been getting busier here with work, but still finding time to get some reading in...here are my reviews and reflection:

The Irreversible Revolution by Shane Claiborne
I would recommend this to any Christian looking to point their religion in a productive and loving direction. Just a touch self-righteous and naïve, but with a big heart. Some good tips on sustainable living.

Rumi in a Nutshell
Excerpts from Islamic philosopher and poet Rumi. Eh, nothing very inspiring. Main message: be learned and do good.

The Sirens of Titan by Kurt Vonnegut
The longer I sit and ruminate on this book, the closer I feel to tears, and I’m not quite sure why. Told with the cunning wit and creativity that is Vonnegut, it's my favorite of his so far. He speaks of love, greed, foolishness, God, beauty, a perfect world, the meaning of life.

Child of the Dark by Carolina Maria de Jesus
Signet Classic version has a dumb, irrelevant cover for this book. It is the diary of a poor black mother in the slums of São Paolo in the 1950s. It is raw, no flowery language, some fleeting characters, worth your time.

Tortilla Curtain by TC Boyle
A compelling story following two opposing couples: a pair of suburban whiteys and two struggling illegal Mexican immigrants. I think Boyle’s writing style is too obvious. Go read it, enjoy the story and the insight, but try not to be distracted by the blaring stereotypes.

Meeting inspiring people

So the United States does not necessarily have a history of youth respecting their elders. It’s not part of our culture, or lack there of. I have always admired my grandparents. My grandma Pearl was the most elegant woman I’ve known. Grandma Skip, she’s a spitfire, the matriarch, and at almost 90 years old she might be more active than me. Grandpa Harry is quite the character; he’s got strong opinions and a strong will. Even with these influences in my life, I can’t say I’ve been put too much thought into respecting my elders.
This Peace Corps experience is certainly expanding my outlook. There are four older volunteers in my group of 33 that arrived in May. And as some of the young folks have left for a variety of reasons, these four are holding strong. And they amaze me. One left behind his wife, his life, to follow his dream. Their courage and motivation are immense.
In this past week, I have connected with 3 older (older than me that is, not retirees just yet, I’m thinking late 50s early 60s in age, I just can’t think of a less loaded word than “old”) people. One woman just came on vacation with a Nicaraguan friend of hers. And she fell in love with the place. And road in the bed of a pickup truck. Her exact quote is that coming to Nicaragua is “better than Disney.” And no offense Allie and Pam, but I agree :P She also introduced me to someone who she was helping with English. As she left, I have taken over. He’s really bright, and we’re working on pronunciation, because that seems like the hardest part for most people studying English here. Many times even if people speak some English, I can’t understand a word they say because of pronunciation problems. So that’s a new side project I’ve started. I enjoy working one on one with someone, it’s a nice break from working with classes of 30-40 students.
I also had the pleasure of meeting a couple who has been coming to Jinotega every summer for the past few years working with an NGO called Círculo de Amigas. They are so motivated, and have done a ton for the community this NGO works in. Though from California, I must say I’d have pegged them for Midwesterners, maybe from Minnesota. Pretty unsuspecting. People who I could definitely see sponsoring a child in a foreign country, but maybe have never and will never leave the U.S. And I would be WRONG. They wore fanny packs and spoke broken Spanish, but the love and caring that they have for this organization and the people it supports is just incredible. They are definitely not in it for the tax write-off. One of their projects that I found particularly interesting is the films they make about the projects Círculo de Amigos is involved with. Starting as a video to give to donors showing where their money was going, the project has grown. They train kids (~10yrs to 17) to use all of the equipment they have, cameras, lighting, etc. And the kids help write the scripts. And they are of course the stars. These short films have won awards at film festivals and have been shown on Nicaraguan television. Can you imagine the excitement of a 12 year old Nicaraguan (and they work with children in a very very poor area), being trusted with expensive equipment, seeing themselves on TV?
And they completely welcomed me into their enthusiasm. Through them I will be starting two new and exciting projects. This organization works with a group of women who crochet recycled plastic bags into beautiful purses (they really are great, I just bought one, and not just because I’m a hippy peace corps volunteer, the stylish New Yorker in me took the lead on that decision). Right now their processes are a little sluggish and expensive, and hopefully I can provide some help by bringing some ideas to make it more efficient.
Now, this next project I am the most excited about. Just the most. The details haven’t been worked out yet, but hopefully by the end of September, maybe October I will start to teach a ballet class to the young girls in the organization! EEEEP! I’m kvelling. I need to start investigating the possibilities of getting a ballet barre made. But in reality, one of the best aspects of this is that no additional resources are needed. The girls can take the class in socks, or barefoot. And most of the names of positions and moves are in French anyway, so the pressure of translating shouldn’t be too heavy. I have the entire nutcracker soundtrack on my computer, so that is a place to start, but here is a:
***CALL TO ACTION*** If you have some time and would like to download or purchase a CD of ballet class music to send to me, that would be AWESOME. Sending it in a padded envelop shouldn’t be too expensive. I have a new address, a PO box here, check the side bar →.
So anyway. I’m feeling rejuvenated by the energy these older people, (guh, people with more life experience? Professionals? If you asked me to describe them, I wouldn’t say old.) have brought to Jinotega.

cat calls

Adios mi amor.
chica bonita, la mujer más linda.
Wouldn’t it be lovely? To hear these words. Whispered to you. Everyday.
How romantic. Well, I do hear these words…whispered to me…everyday. And no, I haven’t found a nica boy. And no, I don’t feel special at all, since every other woman here in Jinotega hears these same words…whispered to them…everyday. So here it is, one month into service and I have finally been pushed to the breaking point on Nicaraguan cat calling. I used to walk with my eyes up and head held high, but I find myself staring at the sidewalk more and more. Avoiding eye contact doesn’t make a difference though, except for the fact that I don’t have to remember what the creep looked like. The men here have a way of making you feel completely naked walking down the street. They wait until you take one step past them, your back now facing them, to hiss whatever “romantic” slur they’ve come up with, letting you know that they are still looking as you walk away, rigid now, trying desperately not to swish your hips, which is tough for a hippy girl like me.
Listen, I’m pretty girly. I like to wear makeup and dresses. I like floral prints. I think the color purple is fierce. I use the word fierce. But I’m considering wearing a burlap sac accessorized with greasy hair and no make-up if it means I wont get cat-called on the street anymore. At first it made me laugh. Maybe a nervous giggle of culture shock, but still. And sometimes it still makes me laugh (I’m telling you, some of the things they come up with are outrageous). But feeling eyes on you at all times is just not comfortable. Now people will throw around the word machismo. Excuses. I don’t buy it. And this certainly isn’t an ailment of all Nica men, I have met plenty of perfectly respectful guys here. But, there is a “type” and I am worried by its omnipresence. So this is a call to all Nica dads out there, teach your sons right.
And don't worry, i have a super positive, upbeat post in the works, cuz life is great for the most part.

adapting

WOOOOOOOO It has been a rollercoaster ride indeed this whole Peace Corps thing. Been in Nicaragua over 3 months now. Uh-huhhhhhhhhhh. Miss me? Some days are certainly harder than others. And sometimes those tough days are strung together into weeks. And sometimes I am bored, or homesick, or anxious, or lonely, or all of the above. Fortunately, things have just taken off this past week, like, up-up-and-away style, and I must say it feels pretty good. In the matter of a few days, my schedule has done a complete turn-around, from mostly free time, to mostly booked. I have no one to thank more than Sarah, for sending me a moleskin day planner during my first few weeks in Nicaragua. It is turning into a lifesaver for sure.

So, what happened this week you may ask? Small things mostly. Miniscule really. I’ve been spending a lot of time with one of my students from the adult school and his family. His wife and kids are just precious. He wants to open a bakery and I will be working with him one-on-one writing a business plan. I’m so thankful for people like him who have reached out to me, brought me to their homes and made me feel like part of the community. I have also just arranged to tutor one of my other students from the adult school in English. Another one of the professors from this school has introduced me to his daughter who is studying to become an English teacher, so we are working out an intercambio of sorts, where she can practice her English and I can practice my Spanish. She is about my age and just hilarious (as is her dad, he wants me to teach him how to cuss in English). She has also promised to introduce me to her translator friend who she says is dying to befriend another native English speaker.

I’ve also been meeting more PC volunteers who live in the area, which has been a blast. I guess its hard not to be awesome if your doing Peace Corps. I feel pretty lucky to be in the city since most of the volunteers who live in the surrounding areas venture in relatively frequently. I also feel fortunate to have connected with several Americans who are down here doing volunteer work for shorter stints. I like introducing myself as the Peace Corps volunteer in Jinotega, though as of yet I couldn’t provide much assistance beyond what they already know.

What else? I put the word out that I am currently looking for a new place to live, and the response has been tremendous from my co-workers. They are dead set on finding me a good place to live at a good price. And I couldn’t be more thankful for their support and enthusiasm. I’ve been checking places out, and I think I’ve found one I really like.

I’ve adopted a new name as of late. Daina (as in Day-nuh) seems to escape many native spanish speakers, so I am now also responding to the name Diana (but Spanish style, like Dee-ah-nuh; the English Die-anna will never be my name). So that’s kinda fun…in a really broad definition of the word fun. Along with my new name, I’ve been drinking Nicaraguan tap water for almost a month now and no problems to speak of. I’ve been listening to reggaeton almost exclusively lately. And I wore an outfit the other day that eerily resembled something Lucrecia wore on an episode of Mi Pecado. I guess I’m adapting.

tour of jinotega

get to know my new home:

moutains everywhere

this was about 2pm on a wednesday:

the most successful bake sale ive ever seen:

view of jinotega from la peña de la cruz



another PCV jeffrey at the top of the cross

my turn:


that hike was tough and on the way down it started to rain and the steep paths turned, well, to mud, slippery slippery mud. it was pretty hilarious though. a group from an evangelical church helped us down. i stumbled a few times, got my clothes pretty muddy, but it was a blast. overall great weekend. spent some time with one of my students and his family. feeling like im adapting, slowly but surely. feel like my spanish has taken a good step forward.

ch-ch-ch-changes ---->

if you've been too fully engrossed in my writing and haven't checked out the right hand side of your screen, i suggest you do so now. i have links to the blogs of my friends and family who are also doing amazing things in the world. i also recently added my address in jinotega, so you can experiment with sending me a letter directly (though i am most likely moving in a few weeks). i have also added a wish list, yes, the shameful begging of a poor peace corps volunteer for all-natural peanut butter.

Jewel, Teaching, and this American Life

I’ve taken to listening to pretty sappy music recently. Like, really sappy. Like, really bad sappy 90s classics. Topping the list has been Jewel’s Foolish Games. I didn’t even know I had it in my music library, but now that it’s been discovered, it’s climbing on the play count ranking (still has a ways to go before it tops my most played song, Shake It, by Metro Station). Celine has also risen to the top. I’ll omit reference to the select boy-band songs that have reentered my life. So I dug deep to see where this change in taste stems from. Well, not that deep. The answer is pretty superficial. I’m far away from friends and family and don’t have anyone to hug me here. And I kinda get that warm fuzzy feeling from sappy 90s songs. I’m meeting people and making friends (sort of, I’ve gone out drinking with co-workers), but how do you replace friends and family? You don’t, that’s how. You get used to it. Oh, and I’ll place partial blame for the music choices on the insomnia I’ve been suffering with as of late. Sleep deprivation make you do crazy things.

So here’s the call to action: Email me some new music! Just a few mp3 files will do the trick. Keep me hip. What’s on the radio these days? Or what do you think is an essential iTunes track. No reggaeton please.

I’ve been able to swipe some spotty wireless recently in house here in Jinotega, go figure. The following link is therefore brought to you by this recent development, your thoughts of “shouldn’t Daina be out practicing her Spanish,” and the letter F (for fierce): advancedstyle.blogspot.com (you’re welcome, trust me)

I taught my first class WITH a counterpart this week. Guess what? It went WAYYYYY better than the classes I gave on my own. DUH. My counterpart can give all of the cultural contexts and anecdotes that totally escape me. She also has the authority. They stay quiet for her. I’m just the silly gringa speaking broken Spanish. They compliment my outfit or earrings, ask me how to say a few things in English, and then pretty much disregard the rest. Also, the fact that I’m only a handful of years older than many of them doesn’t help. I have a 21 year old in my class of 3rd year students. Though he is probably my best student. There goes my argument out the window. I hope they learn to take this class seriously. Because it is new, less regimented, we build things out of straws, and do lots of riddles, many consider it a free period. I think if the teacher commits, they will follow suit, and it will be way easier to motivate her.
Speaking of encouraging and teaching youth, I just listened to an episode of This American Life that I found especially interesting. A brief summary of what was covered in the first act: among other things, what I want to focus on is that poor children in the United States hear something like 20 million less words in their first 3 years than middle to upper class children, and the majority of what they hear is discouraging diction. The amount of language, the pure quantity of words, that a child is exposed to in its first 3 years has a dramatic affect on its future success. I’ve heard about these studies elsewhere, but mostly in the context of standardized testing, and college acceptance, how certain kids are at a disadvantage. This podcast was about a man who was using it to break the cycle of poverty in Harlem through baby college (teaching parents in Harlem all the fancy baby things that parents in the suburbs know) and charter schools (teaching those babies when they’re no longer babies). His kids test at or above state levels. Go dude! (cant remember his name).
So here is another call to action, for myself, a goal I am setting for myself here: work with the casa materna, or casa de la mujer either getting the word out, or reading to kids. I toooooootally understand children’s books in Spanish. Maybe I’ll try to set something up with the Health volunteers here who do a lot of work with pregnant women. And hopefully, if something catches on, in 16 years or so the Peace Corps volunteers here in Nicaragua will have a MUCH easier time getting kids to pay attention in class, because during their formative years they got ahead of the game. And those volunteers will shower me with thanks, and I will nod and grin my 30-(or maybe 40)-something-year-old grin of wisdom, thinking back on my service and how insufferable the kids could be sometimes and say “no no, I just did what I thought was good at the time, you guys are the real difference makers” HAHA! I hope you’ve learned by now that I write most of these blogs in the weeeeeee hours of the night, and am prone to nonsensical outbursts. I encourage you all to track my mental state throughout the blog, and if you start to worry, please let me know, I don’t want to spiral. During training, the host sister of another PCV told us that everyone goes crazy after a few months in Nicaragua. I’ve taken heed of that warning. I do feel a tad schizophrenic here, considering I can have a full conversation in Spanish with one person, and then turn to my right and not understand a damn thing someone else is trying to say to me. Poco a poco.

an open letter to jinotega

Jinotega:
I am grateful for the diversity you offer. Homogeneity is sometimes mundane, other times a stimulus for prejudice, many times a fact of life in Nicaragua. To clarify, i am not saying all Nicaraguans looks the same, because they dont, far from it; I am speaking of homogeneity in the sense of everyone looking similar from the back of their head (and I realize that statement may have convoluted as opposed to clarified). When I sat on buses in Masaya, I was witness to a sea of brown-black hair, framing faces with sharp features, sitting atop of miniature bodies, in similar dress, all at the same height. But Jinotega, you wouldn’t settle for such a monotony of gente. Your mountains, proximity to Honduras, cooler climate, (and american involvement with contra fighters, though i couldnt provide concrete evidence) have allowed diversity to flourish. Though quite startling at first, the site of Nicaraguan gingers (and they are the gingery-est gingers I have ever seen, even though they have pigment in their skin) is a pleasant change. There are short people, tall people, fat people, skinny people, different shades of brown hair (!!!), green eyes, brown eyes, light skin, dark skin. None is better or worse. It’s an exquisite mosaic of humanity. I found Boston’s lack of diversity insufferable…well, fully uninteresting to say the least. So I left. To come to a Latin American country where I really couldn’t have hoped for a change. So I thank you, Jinotega, for being a visual delight.
Faithfully Yours,
Daina

despedida in niquinohomo

mine and kristen's going away festivities in niquinohomo. guess i need to close that chapter before starting this new one in jinotega.
me and my niquinohomo family :)

kristen taking a swing at the piñata

doña ivonne, being as cute as ever


PIÑATA!!

PIIIÑÑÑÑAAAATTTAAA!! :P

me and vidalia


me and karlita, keepin it real

tiger puppy...notice the stripes

the moon was out during the sunset

it was quite magical


proud that i have brought the jumping picture to the children of nicaragua

week 1.5 in review: a string of mostly random thoughts

Another blog written on a weird Nicaraguan high. That sounds wrong. But I really think there is something in the air that makes me act strangely here. I kinda dance my way everywhere I go. I think staying in touch with everyone from home so often has helped keep me so…happy. I really cant express how much I love getting updates from people at home. I guess this is the biggest difference between Peace Corps circa 1960s and the present, we don’t just disappear. Hearing about your days, even if they weren’t so great, keeps me sane. Why else am I floating around in this giddiness? Great classes, mountains, I think it is also the confidence boost that is Nicaraguan men (and boys). I need to keep my ego in check if I am going to live here for 2 years. One of the funniest things I got this week was during my first class at the secondary school I am working at. I handed out a survey to my students so I could learn a little more about them and about Jinotega, leaving the last part open to any question they might have. Half of them asked me how I liked Jinotega, what kind of music I listen to, if I had a boyfriend (mostly girls asking), but the funniest question I got was “why are girls from New York so beautiful?” Let me tell you, they learn at a young age to be charmers here. I am so happy to be working at this school. The kids are sweet, though rowdy, and discipline aint my thing. Another tough part of this job is, though I’m working with 3rd year students in high school (about the equivalent 10th grade in the US), a bunch of my students are older, like 18-21, so when they invite me to go to a party, of course I want to go, cuz I’m desperate to make friends here, but I know its probably not the best idea to bacanalear (to party) with the kinder. Fortunately i also work in an adult school where i can interact with people my own age and older, and after only 1 class i have already been invited to dinners and to visit them at their homes and places of work, meet their families, etc, and i realize that this situation makes me even more nervous...i can plan and teach a class, but one on one communication still isnt my strong suit in spanish.
It’s weird, because I still don’t really consider myself teaching in the long run, yet I have the most fun when I’m at the head of a classroom. I may have to reconsider the life of travelling and waitressing and bumming that I have always dreamed of. Teaching might be where it’s at. Though I wont attempt that in the States for a while, I know from my dearest Laura that teaching gigs are few and far between.
Can I have a quick interlude right here and mention that all of my students have names that are IMPOSSIBLE to pronounce correctly. A few examples: Junielka, Lisbeyling, Jarithza, Jurguen. It is in these cases where my knowledge of the pronunciation of “G’s” and “J’s” dissolves into nothingness. I might have the students wear nametags for a bit so I have a slim chance of learning their names.
The woman who’s house I’m living in thinks I’m anorexic I’m pretty sure. Force feeding has started. I just cant stomach the same quantities of carbs as most I suppose.
I wake up at about 7 or 8am every morning here, which I consider impressive seeing as my earliest class begins at 1pm, and still I cant help but feel as if I’m being a total slacker, as my lovely force-feeding host dawns at 6 and begins making cheese immediately. I’m trying to do some math in my head, and I believe she must make a decent living selling cheese. If she sells 1LB for C$20, and sells about 12-20 lbs a day, that’s probably averaging C$300ish/day. And she doesn’t take any days off. I’d say she probably makes almost twice as much as I do as a PCV. And she collects rent for two rooms in her house. Make that money Rosario.
Gonna try to find a dance class here, dancing around my room isn’t cutting it anymore. Fingers crossed that it will be a ballet folklórico class. I don’t know if they do many adult dance classes, or if you missed it as a child your S.O.L.
Oh, speaking of dance, I know this is probably premature, but if anyone knows of any interesting dance scholarships floating about, let me know, I have a student that I want to work with.
I’m experimenting with Nicaraguan tap water. That is, drinking it. So far so good a little over one week in. This would be an incredible development, seeing as two full years of boiling, bleaching, or buying would have been a hassle. And I aint scared of no parasite. Bring it.
Topping my play count on iTunes as of late has been Wisin & Yandel, Georges Brassens, K’naan, and Girl Talk lately. I give myself credit for being a worldly music aficionada. I’m finally diving deep into my collection seeing as I cant download anything new.
I think the mosquitoes in Jinotega have supernatural powers. I cant for the life of me follow one flying by me for more than 1 second, it just disappears.
My peace corps provided bug repellent smells exactly like Camp Waubeeka, which is a nice throwback.
I may or may not have severely pulled a muscle and stubbed 3 toes just moments earlier “breakin it down” to some hip hop joint. This is why I think it might be safer to place myself in a dance class.
Please comment if stream-of-consciousness is NOT why you check my blog, I will adjust.

some hippy nonsense

I believe that since I have sworn in as an official Peace Corps Volunteer, I have full authority to go on a hippy rant about humanity, no? First I will be perfectly honest with what I have been doing during my free time here in Nicaragua, and unfortunately it is not studying Spanish. I’ve been watching TED talks podcasts that I downloaded in Managua and reading lots of books (in English). I’ll also note that this is influenced by the fact that I dropped my laptop and now The Darjeeling Limited is desperately trying, yet failing repeatedly to escape from my CD drive, so movie watching is out of the question for now (any tips on how i can fix this would be greatly appreciated). I feel both enlightened and informed and hopeful and joyful after reading Norman Doidge´s The Brain that Changes Itself (I wasn’t kidding in my book review, I’m already passing it along to as many of my fellow PCVs as possible, go read it now. And then give Elyse a hug because she recommended it to me, and because I was also very proud of her after reading her analysis of the book. She continues to be one of the most influential people in my life. I don’t think I’ve met anyone who has things quite so together as my sister) because I am now certain beyond a doubt of the sheer awesomeness of people. Just people. Ordinary as can be, everyone has this brilliant force that, though untapped for the most part, can overcome and discover the most amazing things. And I don’t think we give each other enough credit. Or we give credit to something or someone bigger, better, higher, nebulous. But it’s there right in front of you. Or next to you. Or across the street. Wherever. I think maybe because I can’t necessarily understand everything people are saying to me, my other methods of reading people have become heightened. I have to look a little deeper to understand. I taught my little sisters and cousins here during my training a little yoga, and the good ol’ word namaste, which as difficult as it is to define in English, is even harder to explain in Spanish to a bunch of 10 year olds. But I tried, and I’m going to take some more authority to fully secularize namaste, so when you express that you are acknowledging and bowing to the light or life force or spirit in your fellow human, it is wholly human-made, hecho de mano. They created it. And the only reason there is hate and war is because we don’t realize the potential of each and every human, and we don’t take responsibility for our own actions. Blame and credit are too often externalized.
Oh, and did I mention that I LOVE where I am living, and am on kind of a giddy high from being very content. You might just have to ignore the nonsense above and chalk it up to a temporary mental collapse caused by an overdose of serotonin, or maybe the air is just thinner up here in the mountains. But why not go with it and list the reasons why Jinotega is special.
- It’s beautiful. In a valley. The backdrop to every vista is lush green mountains.
- There are countless second-hand clothing stores. I bought a shirt and a dress the other day for C$ 30 (that’s $1.50 USD)
- There’s real coffee
- The people are beautiful
- It’s fresco (“chilly” one might say)
- Strawberries grow up here (though I haven’t seen them being sold anywhere, I’m not sure when they are in season)
- There is a pretty well frequented karaoke bar
- There is a 24 hour convenience store
I also think I’m managing to win over the skeptics at my places of work. It’s really very difficult to show people you are competent and enthusiastic when you only have an intermediate level of Spanish. I was relatively convinced one of my counterpart teachers hated the idea of working with me, and she very well may have felt that way, but after our first planning session, I managed to put together a few questions asking about her family and work experience, and promising that when I can speak more Spanish I will speak more Spanish. At which point she extended on open invitation to visit her house for dinner. So I guess that worked. Hopefully I can win the students over too. Hopefully the novelty of having an American in the classroom will buy me some time to win them over.
I considered several times while writing this post just deleting the whole thing and waiting til I was in a more focused state of mind to write something coherent and perhaps less offensive, but for those of my dear friends and family willing to sift through the word vomit, I applaud your patience…or boredom…or procrastination from whatever else you should be doing right now.

with assistance all the way from mali...

well billy budd has done me the favor of reminding me to post the fact that i am an official peace corps VOLUNTEER. swearing in was on july 31 at a swanky hotel in managua. we had to say some super official oath to the government and god i think, signed something and then we received a peace corps pin, and then we ate cake.
they did in fact try to hamper my pursuit of small business development in nicaragua when my name was "accidentally" omitted from the initial program, and then once again "accidentally" forgotten when they called everyone up to sign our lives away, but so goes the game of being last alphabetically, peace corps just cant seem to remember i exist. o well, i dont mind being able to disappear into jinotega for a bit.
some small updates that i must give about jinotega:
during my daily exploratory trips of the city i have found a kareoke bar and a 24 hour convenience store. wow. oh, and also a place with great espresso.
i taught my first class today at the adult technical school. it was mildly terrifying, but i think the students are excited about the class and about having me there.
the cyber i am at has web cams and very fast internet, so lets set up a skype date. use the claro website to send me a text. weekends early are probably best.

i have a more extensive review of the past week on my laptop, but felt like i should heed mr. budd's suggestion and post this immediately before i became totally outdated.

twitter-ish book reviews

well, twitter wouldnt let me post any updates today, so ill blog them and take this newfound character freedom and only limit myself to 200 characters per review. sometimes when my brain gets totally overloaded with spanish, i find great respite in reading in english...heres where its taken me so far:

The Brain that Changes Itself by Norman Doidge
Do yourself a favor and read this book. It will inspire and leave you in awe of humanity and your own capabilities . Engaging writing on brain science.

Blink by Malcolm Gladwell
I dont enjoy MG’s writing style; I find it redundant & oversimplified. Liked the subject (what really can be deduced in the blink of an eye), had it been 150 pgs shorter it would have been great.

A Long Way Gone by Ishmael Beah
Read this book in two days, shed many tears, moving story of a child soldier in Sierre Leone. Vivid and tragic. Definitely would recommend it.

The I Chong by Tommy Chong
Don’t waste your time, go talk about gov’t conspiracies and pot legalization with your favorite stoner friend. We’ve heard it all before. Only interesting or creative part is his view of salsa dancing as the antidrug.

Naked by David Sedaris
It usually takes me a while to get into Sedaris’ style, sometimes the stories just seem irrelevant and outrageous, but you can’t deny his sense of humor. Man is hilarious. Quick read, why not.

Tristessa by Jack Kerouac
Kerouac stumbles through Mexico, trying but never connecting with the life there. Beautiful, lyrical. Loved reading it while in Nica, could relate to the foreignness and the chickens.

What is the What by David Eggers
This book was glued to my hands every time I got the chance. It was brilliant, lovely, tragic, romantic, informative. I’m sad it is over. Has an undeniable impact.

something fun for everyone

so my cell phone provider in nicaragua, claro, has a free online text message service: http://www.ideasclaro.com.ni/sms2web/ put my number, 83574587, in the first line, your name in the second, write me a message in hit enviar. i look forward to hearing from you all :P LOVE

Fiestas Patronales en Niquinohomo

Fiestas Patronales de Santa Ana. Every town has a celebration for their patron saint, ours was this past weekend and it was just beautiful. (Vidalia, 10, in the green is my little nica sister; fernanda, 7, in the red is my nica niece; and karla, 10, in the purple is my nica cousin)

pictures to accompany site visit reflection...

view from the school i will be working at...Jinotega is lovely and surrounded by mountains

the school i will be teaching at:

jinotega (site visit reflection- july 17, 2009)

so you get the pre and post-analysis all in one today…lucky (so read the entry before this first). So as I said, never would I have imagined that I’d be in such a well serviced environment during my time is a PCV. To add to that, never would I have imagined that I’d be in such a wintry atmosphere during my time in Nicaragua. Now you might say, wintry? Daina, be real now, are you already jaded by the oppressive heat of Managua and Masaya? You’re near the equator, how cold could it really be? Well. Not that cold. BUT, chilly enough up in the mountains that I needed a sweater every day, slept under a sheet and a heavy blanket, and almost cried during the ice cold showers I took every morning. And yes I know it is winter in Nicaragua and rainy season, but gosh does it rain a ton in Jinotega. And we all know that dirt roads + heavy rain = mud! So I’ve packed entirely inappropriately with not nearly enough long pants or rainwear, and as my minor weight loss is accentuated by expanding hand-washed-line-dried clothes, I believe I will be needing an entire wardrobe overhaul in the next month or so. We’ll see how far my monthly living allowance helps with that. I have a feeling I’ll be put in the predicament of choosing between buying rain boots and paying rent. So I guess what I’m trying to say is it is best not to have expectations. For as much as I tried to avoid them as I entered this new phase of my life, my few, generic speculations have been shattered to pieces and burnt with the rest of the garbage here.
So Jinotega is BEAUTIFUL. Situated in a valley, surrounded by mountains, it is small and quaint…best known for being the most war-torn part of the country during the times when Augusto Cesar Sandino gained his fame. For the first six weeks I have a room in a house of an older woman and her dog named traviesa (English translation: naughty/misbehaved). Two other Nicaraguan women rent out the remaining rooms, and it is my goal to make them my first friends in Jinotega. The older woman is sweet, but bless her little heart I can’t understand a damned thing that woman says. She punctuates every phrase with ¡OIGA! which I know means listen, or excuse me, or hey I need your attention (or any phrase in English with the same such sentiment), but I’m not exactly sure why she uses it so liberally. I’m listening to her, carefully, minutely (as she speaks quickly, curtly, in true Nica form) yet when she barks ¡OIGA! I paradoxically lose all concentration and stare like a fool until she acts it out for me. She’s quite a spitfire. I like her. I will take it as a true achievement when I can have a fluid conversation with her.
My counterparts are lovely and warm and have tons of enthusiasm for the program. What more can I ask for? I hope I don’t let them down. I can understand them when they speak, and we’re working on an “intercambio program” which would help them with their English as I improve my Spanish. Unfortunately (maybe) it is assumed that anyone who can speak English can teach English. I will do my best to uphold the integrity of my native tongue while helping those interested parties, though I don’t think I know how to explain verb conjugation in English, and I feel it might be a bit condescending to start with numbers, colors, and days of the week with the director of the school I will be working at.
Training will be over in two weeks and everything will change. and i will settle, hopefully into what life is really like here in nicaragua.

site assignment reflection (written July 8, 2009)

Site assignment day was today…and I now know that I will be living in Jinotega, Jinotega, a department capital in the north of nicaragua. I never would have imagined in joining the Peace Corps that I’d be living in a city…with a supermarket... and a bank... and a post office... and a coffee shop... and internet cafes. Is this what I signed up for? Is this what I wanted when I applied? And I think…it is. I will be working with one secondary school to implement the entrepreneurship course La Empresa Creativa (the creative business) and with an adult education technical school to teach an intro to microenterprise class. I don’t think I’ve described exactly how the Small Business Development program for Peace Corps Nicaragua works (or at least our main project): Peace Corps has been working with the Ministry of Education in Nicaragua to development this entrepreneurship course, La Empresa Creativa. It is divided into Pre-LEC, LEC, and Economics for 3rd year, 4th year, and 5th year secondary school students respectively. The Nicaraguan school system is under a system of “transformation” right now, and after all schools have completed the transformation process, they should have a required 4th year course of productivity in which the LEC will be taught. SBD volunteers have the responsibility of helping to implement this new course into the schools and train the teachers in how to teach it. So the program has promise and longevity. I also have opportunities to work with multiple NGOs and microfinance organizations. But…But? But this is what needs to be done. It’s just certainly not what I expected. I expected a hut in Africa…I’ll get an apartment in Central America. But I know that Nicaragua’s population is booming and job creation…isn’t. And I went to Babson. And I know that an entrepreneurial spirit is essential. And supporting the development of a middle class is critical. I just haven’t quite wrapped my mind around this new vision of the Peace Corps experience. I will be living with less (my yearly earnings will be about 3000 USD), but comfortably. And we (well, maybe me and Robin) know how awful it is to just be comfortable. How unchallenging. How uninspiring. How am I to develop the tortured soul needed to write beautiful prose and poetry? BaHa! O yes, now I remember. Nicaragua is beautiful. And buzzing. And who wants to write poetry anyway.

temblorrrrrrrr (july 6, 2009)

I survived my first earthquake today (july 6, 2009). It registered a 5.4 on the Richter scale. Not sure where the epicenter was (since july 6 i have learned it was in the Atlantic coast region). I was in Spanish class and my rocking chair began to rock from side to side instead of front to back. I kept searching the ground looking for answers, thinking something was stuck under my chair, or that Casey’s chair was bumping mine. Never did it occur to me that it might be seismic activity. Then my Spanish teacher says “¡Había un temblor!” so then I knew, but if she hadn’t said anything I’d still be ignorant as to what was shaking my chair. Us New Yorkers don’t get much of that earthquake action. Nothing even fell off a shelf. I’d like to say I’m a tad disappointed, but if guess I had to be part of it, that is about the extent of an earthquake I care to experience.

Picturefest

yes i did:


Volcan Masaya:








most of my training group at the volcano...yes i had to ruin the picture with a dumb face