Today I watched three separate funeral processions march through the streets of Granada, and this is not a big city. I know that the majority of these deaths are probably from complications of a cold, or stomach problem, or something equally as innocent for a country that has more than 6 doctors for every 10,000 people. (when the son of my teacher, Maria-Lydia, had a simple stomach problem, I went with her to the clinic. She had to wait half an hour simply to make an appointment to see the Doctor, who she wouldn't be able to see for a few more days after that. After that, if she needed medicine, she would have to get that elsewhere. All that for a stomach ache. What if it were more serious? If he had needed more attention that he could get at the clinic, he would have had to wait even longer to go to an overcrowded hospital to receive horrible medical attention. Most women in this country refuse to have their children in the hospitals because they receive virtually no care there, and it's common to receive abuse from the nurses because they are so overworked.)
Lately during class Maria-Lydia has been having us talk about the political, social, and economic problems we have in the U.S.
After we discuss that, she will tell us how those same situations are here, and always think, wow, what the heck are Americans griping about? In particular, I recall reaming on the health care and educational system, and the lack of programs for poor and homeless people.
And then I felt like the most ungrateful person when she laid out for me those same systems in Nicaragua.
I also feel like an idiot when I talk about the current problems with the economy, since we have played a huge part in keeping Nicaragua this poor. The U.S. has not been kind to this country. Prior to coming here, I did not know that the U.S. appointed Samosa, the dictator whose family ruled and destroyed this country for more than 50 years. We have exploited this country in more ways than I can count.
It's been really interesting to see the other side of the coin with Nicaragua. It's amazing how much dealings the U.S. government has had with this country, and how much the average U.S. citizen doesn't know about it. There's much more to this place than the Revolution in the 80's.
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Thursday, October 23, 2008
Ok, at long last, we start our volunteer work tomorrow.
The organization of things in this country is something to get used to.
Nevertheless, tomorrow Shawna and I start. I know it will be an adventure, since neither of us have been informed of what we are doing, or who we talk to about it. Basically, we just show up at the gate tomorrow and see what happens. ha!
We will be working at a complex (for lack of a better word...) run by the catholic church that gives food and medical attention to the poor (and I do mean poor...), and they also have a day care and an orphanage for girls. I have a feeling we will be working at the day care, which is my last choice... but I hope that after we've been there a week or two I can do some other work.
It's in a really poor and somewhat sketchy neighborhood, just walking through the gate was an experience, pushing past all the starving women at the portal patiently waiting for the food voucher so they can feed their children. I've never felt more fortunate than I did in that moment. It's truly terrible to look into the face of a 70 year old woman who has lived on the street her whole life. I had never really seen haggard until I got here.
Regardless of what my job ends up being there... I'm really excited to be in that environment.
The organization of things in this country is something to get used to.
Nevertheless, tomorrow Shawna and I start. I know it will be an adventure, since neither of us have been informed of what we are doing, or who we talk to about it. Basically, we just show up at the gate tomorrow and see what happens. ha!
We will be working at a complex (for lack of a better word...) run by the catholic church that gives food and medical attention to the poor (and I do mean poor...), and they also have a day care and an orphanage for girls. I have a feeling we will be working at the day care, which is my last choice... but I hope that after we've been there a week or two I can do some other work.
It's in a really poor and somewhat sketchy neighborhood, just walking through the gate was an experience, pushing past all the starving women at the portal patiently waiting for the food voucher so they can feed their children. I've never felt more fortunate than I did in that moment. It's truly terrible to look into the face of a 70 year old woman who has lived on the street her whole life. I had never really seen haggard until I got here.
Regardless of what my job ends up being there... I'm really excited to be in that environment.
Saturday, October 18, 2008
where the streets have no name
So, the following are the daily sights of a stroll through the streets of granada.
Women with giant baskets on their head out of which they are vending fruit, bunuelos, or tortillas to make enough money to feed their children.
Horse drawn carts pulled by skinny horses, transporting anything and everything. (they still use horses down here...) It's pretty crazy to see taxis and busses whizzing past ancient wagons. It's like two centuries are colliding.
Herds of cattle. The other day our bus had to stop in the middle of the road because there was a head of cattle crossing. It's somehow also ok to let your horse or cow wander about the city. Sometimes it feels like there's more stray horses than dogs. The stray horses are pretty hysterical, and not something i was expecting to see. (They're probably not really stray... but their owners let them wonder around.)
Get wrenching poverty. There are so many homeless children, and adults. And it's not as easy to pull an American and tell yourself you don't need to be concerned with them because they could get a job and help if they wanted... they can't here.( I don't think it's that easy in the states either... but that's a separate rant...)
It's sobering to look into someone's eyes and see absolutely no hope there.
When we walk past the cathedral at night, the porch is lined with the homeless sleeping... and there's no sort of social program or soup kitchen for them to go to. They're alone.
Beggars... mostly children.
Men and women vending the pottery they make. (pottery is really big down here... and beautiful.)
Kids sniffing baby jars of glue. It's the cheapest drug down here, and mostly used by teenagers.
Genuinely happy people. Despite everything, Nicaraguans are pretty joyous people. One of the national slogans is 'dance until the end.'
Women with giant baskets on their head out of which they are vending fruit, bunuelos, or tortillas to make enough money to feed their children.
Horse drawn carts pulled by skinny horses, transporting anything and everything. (they still use horses down here...) It's pretty crazy to see taxis and busses whizzing past ancient wagons. It's like two centuries are colliding.
Herds of cattle. The other day our bus had to stop in the middle of the road because there was a head of cattle crossing. It's somehow also ok to let your horse or cow wander about the city. Sometimes it feels like there's more stray horses than dogs. The stray horses are pretty hysterical, and not something i was expecting to see. (They're probably not really stray... but their owners let them wonder around.)
Get wrenching poverty. There are so many homeless children, and adults. And it's not as easy to pull an American and tell yourself you don't need to be concerned with them because they could get a job and help if they wanted... they can't here.( I don't think it's that easy in the states either... but that's a separate rant...)
It's sobering to look into someone's eyes and see absolutely no hope there.
When we walk past the cathedral at night, the porch is lined with the homeless sleeping... and there's no sort of social program or soup kitchen for them to go to. They're alone.
Beggars... mostly children.
Men and women vending the pottery they make. (pottery is really big down here... and beautiful.)
Kids sniffing baby jars of glue. It's the cheapest drug down here, and mostly used by teenagers.
Genuinely happy people. Despite everything, Nicaraguans are pretty joyous people. One of the national slogans is 'dance until the end.'
Friday, October 17, 2008
A few things i miss.
-SALAD! I cannot believe how much I miss eating salad.
-sandwiches... cucumber and cheese sandwiches. well, just cheese for that matter. the queso here is not cheese as i know it... it is the one form of cheese ive met that has conquered me.
-washing machines... well, more specifically, driers.
i dont mind washing my clothes by hand... its annoying but it doesnt kill me... what i dont like, is that in the middle of a tropical storm, like we are having right now, when it dumps rain 24-7, clothes dont dry. towels dont dry. hair doesnt dry. everything is constantly in a state of dank, and our clothes reak, because after they were washed... it took them 3 days to dry, and they werent even that dry.
-iced americanos.
-driving. (although... there is the possibility of renting a car one of these weekends... i think my driving skills are definitely up to the challenge. ;))
-sandwiches... cucumber and cheese sandwiches. well, just cheese for that matter. the queso here is not cheese as i know it... it is the one form of cheese ive met that has conquered me.
-washing machines... well, more specifically, driers.
i dont mind washing my clothes by hand... its annoying but it doesnt kill me... what i dont like, is that in the middle of a tropical storm, like we are having right now, when it dumps rain 24-7, clothes dont dry. towels dont dry. hair doesnt dry. everything is constantly in a state of dank, and our clothes reak, because after they were washed... it took them 3 days to dry, and they werent even that dry.
-iced americanos.
-driving. (although... there is the possibility of renting a car one of these weekends... i think my driving skills are definitely up to the challenge. ;))
Monday, October 13, 2008
update.
This weekend... for the first time, I've started to think in Spanish... I notice less and less of my natural tendency to come out with English to communicate something, which is a real praise the Lord moment... I was starting to wonder if it was ever going to click. I think I had a time line in my head, and I didn't think it should take me a month to start feeling comfortable with the language! But, things are starting to cement in my mind, and I feel like I'll really start making progress.
We have a bunch of new students at the school, last week we got two girls from Holland, and this week, an older guy from New York and another chick from Holland.(all along we have had another student named Brian, from the U.S., he was there a week before us and has two weeks left...)
Three times a week we have a group activity where we play some sort of game with the whole school, and it's really fun to have other students... and other nationalities. It's interesting to hear all of the Americans stumble over the pronounciation of the same words, and then hear the Dutch all stumble over different words. It's interesting what different accents do to the Spanish language. (side note, and my one source of pride in this whole experience so far... Shawna and I have been told many times that we have virtually no accent, and sound latina in our pronounciation. So at least if we have no comprehension of what's coming out of our mouths... we sound good. lol.)
Anyway, native speakers are sounding less and less fast to me, and I'm comprehending more and more... I've started reading the newspaper, which, if I'm going to be honest, i comprehend about 40% of, but it's a really good way for me to pick up more of the rythym and structure of the language, even if I fully don't understand the vocab or pronoun placement... or for that matter, the subject of the sentence. (the usage of pronouns in this language is a real beezy... sometimes it's impossible for me to pick out the subject because of the sheer amount of pronouns and their un-english placement in a sentence. Oh, another side note of confusion... it seems that the words could, should, and would are very difficult to translate into spanish. We are finding that it's really hard to communicate a... how do I say this? For lack of a better phrase, a half-assed statement. It's very hard to say something in spanish without committing fully to what you are saying, if that makes any sense. It's pretty hard to beat around the bush, I guess you could say, in Spanish, and until I had to start trying to fully communicate in spanish, I never realized how much I fully beat around the bush with almost everything that comes out of my mouth!)
So yes... there's my update on my current linguistic skills, props to anyone who read this whole boring post to the end!
We have a bunch of new students at the school, last week we got two girls from Holland, and this week, an older guy from New York and another chick from Holland.(all along we have had another student named Brian, from the U.S., he was there a week before us and has two weeks left...)
Three times a week we have a group activity where we play some sort of game with the whole school, and it's really fun to have other students... and other nationalities. It's interesting to hear all of the Americans stumble over the pronounciation of the same words, and then hear the Dutch all stumble over different words. It's interesting what different accents do to the Spanish language. (side note, and my one source of pride in this whole experience so far... Shawna and I have been told many times that we have virtually no accent, and sound latina in our pronounciation. So at least if we have no comprehension of what's coming out of our mouths... we sound good. lol.)
Anyway, native speakers are sounding less and less fast to me, and I'm comprehending more and more... I've started reading the newspaper, which, if I'm going to be honest, i comprehend about 40% of, but it's a really good way for me to pick up more of the rythym and structure of the language, even if I fully don't understand the vocab or pronoun placement... or for that matter, the subject of the sentence. (the usage of pronouns in this language is a real beezy... sometimes it's impossible for me to pick out the subject because of the sheer amount of pronouns and their un-english placement in a sentence. Oh, another side note of confusion... it seems that the words could, should, and would are very difficult to translate into spanish. We are finding that it's really hard to communicate a... how do I say this? For lack of a better phrase, a half-assed statement. It's very hard to say something in spanish without committing fully to what you are saying, if that makes any sense. It's pretty hard to beat around the bush, I guess you could say, in Spanish, and until I had to start trying to fully communicate in spanish, I never realized how much I fully beat around the bush with almost everything that comes out of my mouth!)
So yes... there's my update on my current linguistic skills, props to anyone who read this whole boring post to the end!
Saturday, October 11, 2008
One month.
Shawna and I just concluded our fourth week of class... on Monday we will have officially been in Granada for a month.
I definitely don't feel like I've been here that long!
On Monday, we start our volunteer work through the school, I'm pretty excited about this and way nervous at the same time. We pretty much haven't had to experience life without the safety net of the school, and the teachers talking slow and comprehending our crappy Spanish. When we volunteer, it's just us and the organization, and it's up to us to comprehend and communicate fully on our own. I think the first week will be full of completely humiliating moments. I'm braced for it.
I think I'm either going to volunteer at a house for women, (which is basically a place to educate battered women, provide them with skills, and raise their self-esteem.) or at Carita Feliz, which is an orginization that provides education, activities, and food to kids in the barrio we were living in who don't have enough money for school, and who's parents can't afford to feed them. I haven't decided yet.
We found out that part of the family we live with goes to an Assemblies of God church in Masaya (about 20 minutes away...), and the church has a bus service that can take us there and back. So, this Sunday we will have our first experience at a church here... also a scary thought. This next couple of weeks we just have to start acting like we speak Spanish... (and I guess in reality, we pretty much do...) which is intimidating outside the boundaries of school, which has pretty much become a comfort zone. But I'm excited to be able to really start living here.
Our evening of babysitting went well, and the boys officially love us, (yes marianne, they are putty in my hands...) and the family is great. Last night we all sat around and Shawna and I listened to Rodolfo (the first) tell jokes (he's quite the jokester...), while the whole fam laughed. We didn't catch much of what actually went on, haha... but it was fun to be part of the family and laugh with them.
I'm not sure if I ever explained, but here's a rundown of who lives here.
Rodolfo and Rosario- they are the grandparents... not very old though... somewhere in their 60's.
Felix and Claudia- Claudia is Ridolfo and Rosario's daughter, and felix is her husband. They have two boys, Felix (age 12) and Alesandro (age 6). Also living here is Rodolfo (age 12), Felix and Claudia's nephew, child of Roldofo, Rosario and Ridolfo's son who lives in Guatemala. I'm not really clear on why his son lives here.
Anyways... we really like the fam, and are starting to get used to the tradition of naming your first born son after you. (In our other house... the extended family was soley comprised of Carlos's.) We are no longer confused by the three Rodolfo's or the multiple Felix's.
I definitely don't feel like I've been here that long!
On Monday, we start our volunteer work through the school, I'm pretty excited about this and way nervous at the same time. We pretty much haven't had to experience life without the safety net of the school, and the teachers talking slow and comprehending our crappy Spanish. When we volunteer, it's just us and the organization, and it's up to us to comprehend and communicate fully on our own. I think the first week will be full of completely humiliating moments. I'm braced for it.
I think I'm either going to volunteer at a house for women, (which is basically a place to educate battered women, provide them with skills, and raise their self-esteem.) or at Carita Feliz, which is an orginization that provides education, activities, and food to kids in the barrio we were living in who don't have enough money for school, and who's parents can't afford to feed them. I haven't decided yet.
We found out that part of the family we live with goes to an Assemblies of God church in Masaya (about 20 minutes away...), and the church has a bus service that can take us there and back. So, this Sunday we will have our first experience at a church here... also a scary thought. This next couple of weeks we just have to start acting like we speak Spanish... (and I guess in reality, we pretty much do...) which is intimidating outside the boundaries of school, which has pretty much become a comfort zone. But I'm excited to be able to really start living here.
Our evening of babysitting went well, and the boys officially love us, (yes marianne, they are putty in my hands...) and the family is great. Last night we all sat around and Shawna and I listened to Rodolfo (the first) tell jokes (he's quite the jokester...), while the whole fam laughed. We didn't catch much of what actually went on, haha... but it was fun to be part of the family and laugh with them.
I'm not sure if I ever explained, but here's a rundown of who lives here.
Rodolfo and Rosario- they are the grandparents... not very old though... somewhere in their 60's.
Felix and Claudia- Claudia is Ridolfo and Rosario's daughter, and felix is her husband. They have two boys, Felix (age 12) and Alesandro (age 6). Also living here is Rodolfo (age 12), Felix and Claudia's nephew, child of Roldofo, Rosario and Ridolfo's son who lives in Guatemala. I'm not really clear on why his son lives here.
Anyways... we really like the fam, and are starting to get used to the tradition of naming your first born son after you. (In our other house... the extended family was soley comprised of Carlos's.) We are no longer confused by the three Rodolfo's or the multiple Felix's.
Thursday, October 9, 2008
A few stats on Nicaragua.
-Nicaragua is the third poorest nation in the world.
- For every 10,000 people, there are 6 doctors.
- As of 2005, only 28% of the population had finished primary school. (this number has increased, since the change in government in 2006, but is still not high.)
- The mortality rate for infectious diseases is 80%. Most of these cases are preventable.
- Most Nicaraguans only eat 1.5 meals a day. Because of inflation, the majority cannot afford to buy food. (This includes the children whose meals consist of garbage.)
- The availability of electricity all the time, not when the government thinks the people need it, is somewhat recent, and now, there is only one company, so it’s ridiculously expensive.
- The majority of the people don’t have portable water.
In light of this information, I find out I am living like a queen.
- For every 10,000 people, there are 6 doctors.
- As of 2005, only 28% of the population had finished primary school. (this number has increased, since the change in government in 2006, but is still not high.)
- The mortality rate for infectious diseases is 80%. Most of these cases are preventable.
- Most Nicaraguans only eat 1.5 meals a day. Because of inflation, the majority cannot afford to buy food. (This includes the children whose meals consist of garbage.)
- The availability of electricity all the time, not when the government thinks the people need it, is somewhat recent, and now, there is only one company, so it’s ridiculously expensive.
- The majority of the people don’t have portable water.
In light of this information, I find out I am living like a queen.
Operation nino.
So, as I mentioned before, we have three little brothers at our new house, ages 12, 10, and 6. We were obviously really excited to have some kids around to chat with on a regular basis, since we have some small hope of understanding the majority of what they are saying. What we didn’t take into consideration, is that boys of that age are not really going to know what to do with the two of us, and therefore will remain silent whenever we are in proximity.
We have made several failed attempts with the middle child (we feel he is our key to the whole group…), and now, five days into our new home, don’t have much of a relationship with the little fellows beyond hi, how are you, and goodnight.
Last night though, we saw a glimmer of hope… I let it out that we teach English at the school after the afternoon activity… and what do you know?? Turns out our middle child, Rodolfo, sucks at English! And his grandmother forced him into getting help from us after dinner, starting tonight. I’ll take forced interaction over no interaction… we’ll win the dude over, and then will follow his brothers.
Then we found out at lunch today that the fam is going to Managua to pick up a friend from the airport tonight… and they are leaving the boys with us… which could turn out to be an absolute nightmare… but, it’s forced interaction.
We’ll see how the evening goes watching three rambunctious boys who don’t give us the time of day and who we aren’t really on a basis of communication with. Could be fun… could be really not fun.
We have made several failed attempts with the middle child (we feel he is our key to the whole group…), and now, five days into our new home, don’t have much of a relationship with the little fellows beyond hi, how are you, and goodnight.
Last night though, we saw a glimmer of hope… I let it out that we teach English at the school after the afternoon activity… and what do you know?? Turns out our middle child, Rodolfo, sucks at English! And his grandmother forced him into getting help from us after dinner, starting tonight. I’ll take forced interaction over no interaction… we’ll win the dude over, and then will follow his brothers.
Then we found out at lunch today that the fam is going to Managua to pick up a friend from the airport tonight… and they are leaving the boys with us… which could turn out to be an absolute nightmare… but, it’s forced interaction.
We’ll see how the evening goes watching three rambunctious boys who don’t give us the time of day and who we aren’t really on a basis of communication with. Could be fun… could be really not fun.
Monday, October 6, 2008
We have a new family!
Today we moved to a new host home.
La casa de Ines and Carlos was fine, we had no real complaints… but it was just the two of them living there and we didn’t get any interaction really. I guess more of their family used to live there, and the school didn’t realize that it was just the two of them oldies there now.
Ines and Carlos seemed to have a weird relationship with each other… after we had been there a couple of weeks, we realized that they lived in separate rooms, and they never really talked to each other at all… besides what was necessary… so we weren’t hearing any Spanish at home because they didn’t talk much… and whenever we would join them for some nightly TV, nothing would really be said to us all night… and we always ate our meals alone, so there was pretty much no conversation at all taking place at the house. (Which, I’m pretty sure is the reason why we’re picking things up so much slower… we haven’t really had an immersion.)
Anyways… the school moved us today to a larger family, and we love it.
We now live with Rosario and Rodolfo, who share the house with their daughter, son in law, and their three boys, ages 12, 10-ish, and 6. (The experience of having three little brothers running around the house will be interactive for sure…)
We’ve already had way more conversation at this house than we did in the entire three weeks at the other, and there is no guessing about the expectations for us here. Rosario pretty much just announced the protocall for our life here this afternoon, which is nice, because that alone will cut down on the millions of awkward moments just waiting to be had, as was the case with Ines. Bless her heart, the woman never communicated a thing.
Rodolfo and Rosario both were teachers in primary and high school, and Rodolfo was also a professor at a University. He studied Political Science and Math, and I can’t remember what she studied… but it’s cool being at a house with two teachers when our whole point of being here is to learn. Rodolfo seems like a pretty smart cookie… and I’m looking forward to picking his brain (when I have the vocabulary to do so…) on the political side if Nicaragua, and Central America.
In terms of this house itself… we have definitely taken a step up.
a. our room does not have any huge openings to the outside world, which is nice, because the mosquitos here are real beezies, and having a room with so much open to outside is a real monster for keeping bugs out. I have never had so many bug bites in my life. I’m glad to have a room that’s fully inside the house.
b. Our bathroom is also completely closed off from outside, which should cut down on the lizards, and spiders the size of my face living in a hole in the concrete that leads into the dirt outside, letting in God only knows how many giant spiders. Our shower is actually tile, and a real shower, instead of a concreted stall with a pipe running up the wall that got a shower head attatched to it and called it a shower. The one weird thing about our new bathroom, is that it is sans a sink. I’m not really sure why. Haha! But I’ll just perfect the art of brushing my teeth in the shower.
c. We have closets. No a pole wedged in the corner under one of said giant openings between the wall and ceiling to hang clothes on. Nicely placed so whenever a wind picked up with the nightly monsoon rain, random debris could come blowing in and land on our clothes in the ‘closet.’
Overall, this is a really nice house. (I still can’t get a good handle on economic levels here… I thought our other house was pretty much a middle class establishment, it definitely wasn’t poor, there were no dirt floors, we had running water, and everything was clean. Not a bad situation at all. But then we get here, and this place is down right ritzy compared to out last place… but I know these people aren’t rich, because we’ve seen a few of the ‘rich’ houses, and this isn’t rich. It’s a mystery… maybe when I have a better vocab I can tastefully ask some of my many questions so they aren’t an insult.
Anyways, that’ the update for now!
La casa de Ines and Carlos was fine, we had no real complaints… but it was just the two of them living there and we didn’t get any interaction really. I guess more of their family used to live there, and the school didn’t realize that it was just the two of them oldies there now.
Ines and Carlos seemed to have a weird relationship with each other… after we had been there a couple of weeks, we realized that they lived in separate rooms, and they never really talked to each other at all… besides what was necessary… so we weren’t hearing any Spanish at home because they didn’t talk much… and whenever we would join them for some nightly TV, nothing would really be said to us all night… and we always ate our meals alone, so there was pretty much no conversation at all taking place at the house. (Which, I’m pretty sure is the reason why we’re picking things up so much slower… we haven’t really had an immersion.)
Anyways… the school moved us today to a larger family, and we love it.
We now live with Rosario and Rodolfo, who share the house with their daughter, son in law, and their three boys, ages 12, 10-ish, and 6. (The experience of having three little brothers running around the house will be interactive for sure…)
We’ve already had way more conversation at this house than we did in the entire three weeks at the other, and there is no guessing about the expectations for us here. Rosario pretty much just announced the protocall for our life here this afternoon, which is nice, because that alone will cut down on the millions of awkward moments just waiting to be had, as was the case with Ines. Bless her heart, the woman never communicated a thing.
Rodolfo and Rosario both were teachers in primary and high school, and Rodolfo was also a professor at a University. He studied Political Science and Math, and I can’t remember what she studied… but it’s cool being at a house with two teachers when our whole point of being here is to learn. Rodolfo seems like a pretty smart cookie… and I’m looking forward to picking his brain (when I have the vocabulary to do so…) on the political side if Nicaragua, and Central America.
In terms of this house itself… we have definitely taken a step up.
a. our room does not have any huge openings to the outside world, which is nice, because the mosquitos here are real beezies, and having a room with so much open to outside is a real monster for keeping bugs out. I have never had so many bug bites in my life. I’m glad to have a room that’s fully inside the house.
b. Our bathroom is also completely closed off from outside, which should cut down on the lizards, and spiders the size of my face living in a hole in the concrete that leads into the dirt outside, letting in God only knows how many giant spiders. Our shower is actually tile, and a real shower, instead of a concreted stall with a pipe running up the wall that got a shower head attatched to it and called it a shower. The one weird thing about our new bathroom, is that it is sans a sink. I’m not really sure why. Haha! But I’ll just perfect the art of brushing my teeth in the shower.
c. We have closets. No a pole wedged in the corner under one of said giant openings between the wall and ceiling to hang clothes on. Nicely placed so whenever a wind picked up with the nightly monsoon rain, random debris could come blowing in and land on our clothes in the ‘closet.’
Overall, this is a really nice house. (I still can’t get a good handle on economic levels here… I thought our other house was pretty much a middle class establishment, it definitely wasn’t poor, there were no dirt floors, we had running water, and everything was clean. Not a bad situation at all. But then we get here, and this place is down right ritzy compared to out last place… but I know these people aren’t rich, because we’ve seen a few of the ‘rich’ houses, and this isn’t rich. It’s a mystery… maybe when I have a better vocab I can tastefully ask some of my many questions so they aren’t an insult.
Anyways, that’ the update for now!
Friday, October 3, 2008
This is an interesting culture of contradictions, I’ve learned a lot about this country in the past three weeks, but I’m not going to lie and say I understand the half of what goes on down here.
Our first week here, when it came around to garbage day, the whole city put out their garbage in the street, waiting for it to get picked up.
A day goes by, all the garbage remains, sitting out in the hot sun, getting pounded by the rain at night, and strewn around the city by the millions of stray starving dogs.
Two days, three days, a week goes by. The garbage has not been picked up… we note that people are starting to burn it in little piles on the street (in case you were wondering, the aroma is HEAVENLY!). We were naturally curious whether this was just garbage protacal? Put it in the street, and let the weather and the dogs take care of most of it and then burn the rest?? A total mystery.
So the next week, it’s garbage day again, and we think… ok… time to add to the garbage in the street again. This time it got picked up by garbage men.
I find out from my teacher, Maria-Lydia, that the city didn’t have the money, or wouldn’t pay the garbage men the money (the difference was lost in my translation…), so they didn’t get the garbage… but they paid them this week, so the garbage got taken.
They have huge respect for mother figures here… because the women are the one’s who do everything in this country as far as the family is concerned… grandmothers and mothers are highly respected. Yet one out of every four women is beaten by her husband. (And this is an improvement, before the Sandanista Revolution in the 80’s, it was one out of every two women. Half of the women in the country.) A weird and sad contradiction. Ultimate respect for the role of women, yet the majority are battered.
It’s a sobering thought to realize that, statistics wise, five of the twenty men who daily attempt to pick us up when we walk anywhere, go home and beat their wife.
There is garbage all over the city all of the time. It is not, by any stretch of the imagination clean. I would not walk barefoot here! (and let me just point out that I have walked the Vegas strip barefoot, and walked around the streets of Paris barefoot… I’m not easily wimped out by germs.) It’s pretty filthy, and there’s constant mystery water run off all of the time on the sides of the road, murky mystery water run off growing algae.
Yet, on a daily basis, there are women out scrubbing the sidewalk in front of their houses. Daily! Everybody litters here like nothing else… but they scrub their sidewalks with soapy water!
(side note about the mystery water, when it rains really hard… which is mostly every day right now… the water pretty much takes over the road… and since it was 100 degrees prior to the rain dumpage, you are wearing sandals… and there is no choice but to walk through all the water with who knows what floating in it, and God only knows what contaminating it. I’m pretty sure I’m getting exposed to a lot of disease! Haha)
Our first week here, when it came around to garbage day, the whole city put out their garbage in the street, waiting for it to get picked up.
A day goes by, all the garbage remains, sitting out in the hot sun, getting pounded by the rain at night, and strewn around the city by the millions of stray starving dogs.
Two days, three days, a week goes by. The garbage has not been picked up… we note that people are starting to burn it in little piles on the street (in case you were wondering, the aroma is HEAVENLY!). We were naturally curious whether this was just garbage protacal? Put it in the street, and let the weather and the dogs take care of most of it and then burn the rest?? A total mystery.
So the next week, it’s garbage day again, and we think… ok… time to add to the garbage in the street again. This time it got picked up by garbage men.
I find out from my teacher, Maria-Lydia, that the city didn’t have the money, or wouldn’t pay the garbage men the money (the difference was lost in my translation…), so they didn’t get the garbage… but they paid them this week, so the garbage got taken.
They have huge respect for mother figures here… because the women are the one’s who do everything in this country as far as the family is concerned… grandmothers and mothers are highly respected. Yet one out of every four women is beaten by her husband. (And this is an improvement, before the Sandanista Revolution in the 80’s, it was one out of every two women. Half of the women in the country.) A weird and sad contradiction. Ultimate respect for the role of women, yet the majority are battered.
It’s a sobering thought to realize that, statistics wise, five of the twenty men who daily attempt to pick us up when we walk anywhere, go home and beat their wife.
There is garbage all over the city all of the time. It is not, by any stretch of the imagination clean. I would not walk barefoot here! (and let me just point out that I have walked the Vegas strip barefoot, and walked around the streets of Paris barefoot… I’m not easily wimped out by germs.) It’s pretty filthy, and there’s constant mystery water run off all of the time on the sides of the road, murky mystery water run off growing algae.
Yet, on a daily basis, there are women out scrubbing the sidewalk in front of their houses. Daily! Everybody litters here like nothing else… but they scrub their sidewalks with soapy water!
(side note about the mystery water, when it rains really hard… which is mostly every day right now… the water pretty much takes over the road… and since it was 100 degrees prior to the rain dumpage, you are wearing sandals… and there is no choice but to walk through all the water with who knows what floating in it, and God only knows what contaminating it. I’m pretty sure I’m getting exposed to a lot of disease! Haha)
“Toto, I don’t think we’re in Kansas anymore.”
Yesterday as Shawna and I were walking to class, we came around a corner and as we were walking we both noticed there was an old man lying on his back on the sidewalk with his cane next to him. I didn’t think much of it at first (there is always random drunk or homeless people passed out on the sidewalks here at night, or in the morning left over from the night before…), but then I noticed there was a younger guy, maybe the old man’s grandson, bending over him. Looking closer, it was clear the old man was not alive… his grandson turned him over, and we watched as random fluid came dumping out his nose and mouth… and the man was not breathing.
Basically, we walked past as the man was dying right there on the sidewalk.
The weirdest part about it was that the grandson wasn’t even a little bit frantic, there was no calling for help, there was no “call 911” yelled… we weren’t the only people walking past. It was just happening. No freak out, no big deal.
It was like the kid just came out of the house, saw his grandpa and thought, ‘well, grandpa just died here…” end of story.
Later, as we were walking through the market, we saw a dead dog, put in a bag and thrown out on the sidewalk.
It’s a sobering thought to think that these people have dealt with so much death that it’s not really a big deal. Not to say that there’s no mourning here, or that they don’t love their families…but it’s just an accepted reality of life.
They are comfortable with death.
Death isn’t a disturbing concept here.
On my way to class yesterday I watched a man die.
Basically, we walked past as the man was dying right there on the sidewalk.
The weirdest part about it was that the grandson wasn’t even a little bit frantic, there was no calling for help, there was no “call 911” yelled… we weren’t the only people walking past. It was just happening. No freak out, no big deal.
It was like the kid just came out of the house, saw his grandpa and thought, ‘well, grandpa just died here…” end of story.
Later, as we were walking through the market, we saw a dead dog, put in a bag and thrown out on the sidewalk.
It’s a sobering thought to think that these people have dealt with so much death that it’s not really a big deal. Not to say that there’s no mourning here, or that they don’t love their families…but it’s just an accepted reality of life.
They are comfortable with death.
Death isn’t a disturbing concept here.
On my way to class yesterday I watched a man die.
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