Talents I´ve learned and some I have yet to conquer

The end of the school year is quickly approaching and I’m preparing myself for the “summer” vacation. Only a month left of classes and then it’ll be a lot of time for me to spend with Rupert, maybe I’ll train her to do some pretty awesome tricks. The weather is getting chilly here, although not comparable to the Midwestern winters I’m cold enough to wear a fleece – and you’re probably rolling your eyes because it’s a low in the 50s or 60s. It’s orange season; so instead of an apple for the teacher, my students have been giving me enough oranges that my vitamin C levels are sufficient. I do like oranges, but I’m waiting for mangos and avocados to come back into season.

My 6^th grade students are learning to sing “Imagine” by John Lennon in English and Spanish for their graduation. I’m very excited because it’s coming along very well. They should be prepared for their first year in high school, with a little advantage of this year of English.

I’m already dreaming about the Thanksgiving food that I’ll be missing again. I’m really craving pumpkin anything right now; pie, muffin, latte. I’m torturing myself, which is leading to my compulsive eating disorder. I recently received a couple of packages from my Grandma (thank you so much!) and they had some little snacks. Note: I normally share everything; I even brought back with me nearly 10 pounds of candy to share with my students, neighbors, anyone who comes to my house. But, over time I’ve missed things from home more and more, and noticed that they like the candy, but don’t appreciate it like I do. Obviously, they’re going to like it, the candy here sucks…it is all hard candy filled with gum, and it’s not good. I love it and it brings me happiness; therefore, I hide it. It’s not that I’m greedy, but if they see it, then I have to give it to them and then they tell their friends and then it’s gone. So I hid the snacks that I got in the packages and then ate it until it was gone. For example, one day all I ate was Goldfish and Starbursts; then the next day, cashews and Goldfish and on and on until my supplies were depleted. Hindsight is 20/20, I probably shouldn’t have done that, I could have shown some self-discipline and spread it out a bit more maybe even shared a little, but will I repeat this with my next shipment….probably! Hey, at least it’s junk food and not drugs that I’m talking about. And, can you blame me?! My diet pretty much consists of rice, beans and tortilla.

Finally, this year has gone by so quickly I can hardly believe it. I’ve learned a lot and considering how fast it’s gone by I’ve created a list of some things I still need to accomplish or not….

Talents that I’ve learned during my year:

• Cooking. I can make arroz, the Nicaraguan way; gallo pinto, tajadas, maduros, chilero…
• Speaking Spanish – much better than when I arrived, but still quite a few errors are made
• Learning to listen and tell when the bus is coming before seeing it
• Hand washing my clothes
• Using a machete
• Making arts and crafts from trash
• Slowing down my life and accepting a lot of down time to lay in my hammock
• Tasting the difference between Pepsi and Coca Cola and preferring Coca Cola
• Drinking Tona, (beer)

Traits of Nicaraguans I have yet to learn:

• Speaking Spanish perfectly
• Saying “tuani” (cool) and having the conversation continue without laughter
• Predicting the arrival of rain with near 100% accuracy
• Whistling and creating a system of call and response whistles with my friends and family
• “Painting” my face with more makeup than I would wear in a whole year
• Dancing (my Norwegian ancestry didn’t really help with the dance/rhythm department)
• Being able to eat rice, beans, tortilla and cuajada daily without complaining
• Finding rodents and reptiles in/around my house without fear/screaming/crying
• Drinking Rojita (soda)

Obviously, there’s more, but these are the easiest to express into words and some of the least pressing matters to deal with.

It´s true, you have a really long neck?!?

Being a gringa in the Nicaland, is like living in a fishbowl or under a microscope (whichever metaphor you prefer) I´ve gotten pretty used to it. People always know where I´ve been and at times even where I´m going before I know; but every now and then I get a curve ball, like when I went to plan with one of my teachers. I go over there every week to plan and her grandkids are always there and wanting to tell me about there day and play. I was chatting with Sol, the 4 year old, asking about her day in preschool, etc and out of the blue she says, It´s true, you really do have a long neck.....PAUSE....I guess thank you. Yes, I´m a giant compared to everyone else here and I know that, but I didn´t realize that my neck was resembling a giraffe´s as well. And it also made me wonder what else are they saying about me? Are my ears too big too? Kids do say what they want to say, but she said it like before she was in disbelief, but now after observation it´s true!

That´s my only funny antecdote for this entry....but here´s what´s going on in my life:

I recently gave a charla to the new group of trainees and it felt kind of weird. I couldn´t believe that I´ve been in site for a year already and now am giving advice to the new volunteers when most of the time I still don´t quite know what I´m doing myself. And during this whole time I was in and out of the PC office and seeing all the volunteers that are preparing to leave as their 2 years comes to an end and I was able to really visualize the life cycle of a PCV and it made me anxious for my last year to finish up so that I could share the joy of those that are leaving. It wasn´t that long ago I was in training and hopefully not much longer and I´ll be signing my papers to go home. 

The life cycle of a Peace Corps Volunteer.

1) Super long application process

2) Training for 3 months

3) Volunteer for 2 years

4) Close of service and you´re free!

Whiile in Managua for the charla I was able to indulge in American food, wireless internet, air conditioning, comfortable bed and pillow and it was wonderful, but like always it makes coming home and eating rice and beans and sleeping under a mosquito net that much harder.

Things are going well here. Classes are going to be finishing up in the next couple of months and I´m trying to prepare some activities to take place during the vacations so that I don´t die of boredom. I want to have some English classes and some Environmental activities.

First World vs. Third World Problems

 I recently had my mid-service doctor and dentist appointments. I don’t mind doctors or dentists but I dread going to Managua. Again just when I’m thinking that I can handle anything Nicaragua throws at me, the gods decide to throw me a curve ball (I’m not sure if it’s in spite or just to keep me on my toes). As I was waiting for the bus on Monday morning, I immediately regretted my decision to schedule my appointment for a Monday…it’s a bad travel day because everyone is traveling. I ended up hopping on a packed bus in which I was lucky enough to stand for the whole three hour trip on a terrible excuse for a road. Within the first ten minutes I almost fell and another passenger reached his arms out (instinctively, kind of like when you slam on the brakes and reach your arm out to protect your front seat passenger). Here comes the curve ball, there was a guy who was drunk or hung over and roaming around the cramped aisles even though he wasn’t getting off anytime soon. Luckily I have this magnet that attracts freaks like this and he stood by me; as he stood way too close for my comfort levels and not sure but seemed like he was trying to reach into my pocket and steal the ten cords I had. I kept my eyes on him and then he starts mumbling sweet nothings, which I hate and then kissed my arm that was grasping onto the handrail. Why?!?! I’m a good foot taller than the guy and as long as no weapons are involved I felt very confident that I could kick his ass. But instead of causing a scene I gently pushed him away and told him not to touch me. He got off shortly after that and I was able to successfully reach Managua without any more problems.

1^st World – Most people drive their personal cars and don’t need to deal with public transportation; and if they do elect to participate in public transportation the buses are not old school buses in danger of breaking down at any moment, not ever crammed with so many people you’re on the verge of a panic attack and can usually sit in your own solitude while listening to an Ipod or reading.

3^rd World – You rely on the buses and if you miss the bus there’s not another one coming in 5 minutes, you’ll be waiting much longer. You’re constantly alert of your belongings and the people around you, and you’re getting a great workout while you grasp the handrail and hope your core muscles will support you while the bus is launched over pot holes the size of small lakes and going way too fast around those curves.

I had my doctor’s appointment and all is well. I’m losing weight but nothing too drastic. I had my dentist appointment and surprise! I’ve got a cavity. I’m not surprised with the extreme amount of sugar and soda that I’m consuming here which is way higher than my normal US consumption rates. My appointments ran long and I had to stay in Managua because I couldn’t catch any more buses for the day and my cell was dead. I don’t mind staying in Managua – I get to sleep in a comfortable bed, eat food that doesn’t include rice or beans, take a hot shower and watch cable TV; but I don’t like staying when I’m not prepared. I didn’t think it was a possibility that I would stay, so I didn’t bring anything, toothbrush, change of clothes, nothing. So it’s not really that enjoyable to shower and then put on the same dirty clothes and then sleep in those clothes too. My clothes did not smell good the next day and I felt sorry for the woman I sat next to on the bus, Sorry! I was lucky enough to sit, but I took that worst bus ever…looking at it I’m thinking please let me arrive safely; I arrived safely but after six or seven stops where they had to fix or pretend to fix various mechanical problems.

1^st World – People’s response to my weight loss is “Wow! That’s great!” “You’re getting so skinny,” etc. It’s super interesting to me because we have an over abundance of food available to us each day and we’re overly obsessed with body image and being skinny or muscular to be beautiful.

3^rd World – People are telling me that I’m getting too skinny and need to eat more. People are actually inviting me to eat at their houses because they don’t think I’m eating enough. (P.S. I’m eating, but apparently rice and beans are a good diet if you’re looking to lose weight). Some people don’t have enough food to feed their families or themselves, therefore in my opinion, it seems that if you have money you show that by being a little bigger to show that you’re eating and that you have the money to buy food. Here and in other countries that I’ve visited big is beautiful; they want me to be hermosa not flacita.

            There are many more differences between the problems 1^st world societies face and 3^rd world societies face, but these were experiences that I recently had and reflected over and find very interesting.

Not my prince charming

I apologize for my lack of updates, but I would rather post funny antecdotes than bore you with my mundane tasks in life.
Rupert is getting bigger by the day and is a terror. It´s a good thing she´s cute because there have been moments where I would like to kill her. She´s no longer allowed to be indoors unsupervised because she´s destroyed 2 pairs of flip flops, pulled the tablecloth off the table along with my dishes, pots, pans, etc, somehow got into her food which was on the kitchen table (about waist high) and just general destruction of everything.
My wish of living in a rodent free house has been crushed; but the score is Lindsey 2, mice, not rats 0. I had one mouse living under my refridgerator. I´m not sure how long he was there for, but for a decent amount of time judging by the stock of dog food he had hidden. He was a bit mysterious and difficult to catch. After chasing him around the house, while screaming of course he would literally disappear into thin air. I was not alone, my friend who was wielding a machete (yes a machete) to kill a mouse can vouch for the witch mouse.   He luckily fled the house but was unlucky and lucky for me to be pummeled my a rock and killed instantly. The other mouse, I hope is burning in hell, was living in my clothes. One morning I was rummaging through trying to find the least stretched out and best smelling shirt when he scurried out, nearly up my arm causing a near heart attack for me. Again, he luckily fled the house through the many open doors and crevices and was later found dead near my backdoor. I´m hoping that those are the only unwanted visitors that enter my home and if more trepass they should be warned of their fateful future.
Drum roll please.....
This is the story you are all waiting for. I sleep under a mosquito net to prevent such diseases as malaria and dengue from infecting me, but also it´s my shield of armour, without it I don´t know if I would every sleep soundly. Unfortunately, it´s failed me. I was peacefully sleeping when something small and moist fell unto my lips. Of course, I shrieked and busted out my cell to give what little light it can provide to find the culprit. It took quite a bit of frantic searching but I found the little guy, it was a small tree frog. Luckily, it wasn´t poisonous and I didn´t obtain any warts from him; but nor was he my prince charming. I´ve literally kissed one frog, hopefully my only and it didn´t turn out like the fairy tales. DAMN! I guess that´s why Maroon 5 sings that fairy tales are full of shit...that´s right I was in the US and can make references to pop culture, probably not for much longer but for now I can.

Back in Nicaragua a year older and a little weirder

It was so nice having that little vacation time to see family and friends and to eat foods other than rice and beans! Thank you to everyone for everything.

I’m finally caught up on popular culture, news, TV, music and movies. I am satisfied to have watched the season of Glee that I missed. I’ve learned the new songs that are overplayed on all mainstream radio stations. Unfortunately I haven’t been able to stop singing “Call Me Maybe” since I’ve heard it and sadly downloaded it into my iTunes! It’s quite catchy! Maybe I’ll add to YouTube collections of the video and do a Nicaraguan version…

Coming back wasn’t too tough of a readjustment. Although there are those days when I wish I could just hop in a car and drive to the store, or eat those comfort foods from home, or watch TV. Rupert, my puppy is growing more and more each day and is quite the biter *I’ve got the battle wounds to prove it; my flip flops too are scarred by her little teeth.

The best surprise was I recently celebrated my birthday, and the students at one of my schools planned a party. I thought something was a little fishy when almost every student asked me how old I was and then what’s my birthday. At recess, after I had taught my classes they all came together, sang to me the longest version of happy birthday I’ve every heard, gave me a cake and perfume. It was really sweet! That was on Wednesday. On Friday, my actual birthday, the occasion was announced on the radio and lots of people wished me felicidades.

That’s all the positives of turning 25, the downside is according to Nicaraguan standards I’m an old maid. The questions haven’t stopped since I arrived but now with another year under my belt the frequency has increased. When am I going to have babies? Why don’t I have one now!?! Do I want kids? My response is “yes I want kids eventually, but not now” but that just isn’t acceptable to most people. In their eyes, I should have at least a husband and one child by now and I have neither…and to top it off I live alone…WHAT?!? And I take Rupert on walks, use a leash, pet her and she sleeps inside. I’m a true freak to the people observing me in my town.

Home Again, Home Again

That's right...the countdown has ended and I've safely made it back to my home state. I really love you folks here at home because I went through a lot to get here. First of all, I woke up at 4 am to take a bus at 5 am to Managua. I stood on the side of the highway and watched the sunrise while I waited, waited and waited until the bus finally arrived at 6 am. I made it to the airport, dodging four lanes of traffic with my huge suitcase to go from the bus stop to the airport. I was already tired and hungry and then I was met by an uncooperative employee who didn't want to check in my luggage because I was 5 minutes early...I tell ya. But, all was well and I safely arrived in Houston, that's where the trouble began. The line for customs was about a mile long, no exaggeration and only three windows were open to help people. I only had an hour to get through and make it to my connecting flight, so it's no surprise that I missed it. After choosing the wrong line to stand in (the slowest one) and seeing people that were behind me pass through before, just about brought me to tears. Of course, I was thinking worst case scenarios, I'd be stuck there overnight and it would throw a wrench into all of my plans; but the nice lady at the ticketing counter booked me a flight an hour later, but when I saw the line for security my heart sank just a little bit. I didn't think I would make it through, but someone must have been praying for me because I made it through in the nick of time and even better there was a bit of delay, so I had time to eat something, the first thing for the day because I only have Nicaraguan cordobas - FYI they don't work in the US. Finally, I touched down in Chicago and practically ran to baggage claim. As I was approaching I saw a woman that looked like my mom, but was too blonde to  be true, wrong! It was her - I almost didn't recognize her. We picked up my bag and drove for home.
And that's my story. I'll be zipping about the US, visiting family and friends; eating anything that isn't rice and/or beans; enjoying the joys of home that I don't quite get in my Nicaraguan home.
A bit of an update on the Nicaraguan home front:
My dear, dear friend and fellow volunteer decided to leave early and ditch me to survive alone; but as a consolation she gave me her puppy. It's a girl! and her name is Rupert, I like to call her Rue. She's adorable and I've fallen in love with her, except when she poops and pees in the house and bites me. I've had her for two weeks and was sad to leave her behind and am really trusting that they're taking good care of her back in Nicaragua. I bought her a collar and leash, I was so excited to have a dog to go walking with, but Rue had other thoughts. I saddled her up and she dug her paws into the ground and refused to move. I tried again the next day, we were able to walk through the house to my front yard before she lost interest again. Finally, third time is a charm, we successfully walked up and down my street. Little by little, we'll get there.
I feel like I'm slowly becoming a Nicaraguan housewife minus the husband part and with a dog as my child. My days are becoming more and more routine. I have acquired an internal alarm clock which is set for about 5 am and Rue has the same one. I have my classes, I clean the house about ten times a day due to Rue, I sort beans (picking out stones, bad beans), I cook, I wash clothes if there's an ounce of sunshine (lately it's been lots and lots of rain and my laundry basket is quite full, a nice little treat for when I return), and I visit neighbors to watch my telenovelas and go to bed pretty consistently around 9 pm.
Other than my new addition of Rue I don't really have anything exciting to share. I'm glad to be home and to blend in a little more with the crowd and to not feel like a giant in a sea of munchkins. Hopefully I won't lose all of my Spanish skills, and right now I'm rocking a pretty awesome Spanglish dialect when chatting about everything. Well, I've got places to go and people to see, my next update will be when I'm back in Nicaragua. Adios!

Not the Next Top Chef, Not Even Close

I finally caved and bought my own Nica food supplies (rice, beans, tortilla, oil and salt). Up until now I’ve been eating at other people’s homes or cooking myself a diet of eggs, oatmeal, sandwiches and other low maintenance items.

I was really proud of myself. I spent the day picking at beans and throwing out the bad ones, washing rice, and chopping tomatoes, onions, and chiltoma (similar to green pepper). Of course, I had observers watching my every move and telling me I wasn’t chopping small enough or not big enough. But the big faux pas was how I prepared my rice. Instead of frying my rice for 15 minutes and then adding a little water every 5 minutes until it’s ready like everyone does here, I just boiled the rice – the way I’m accustomed to preparing rice. With the reactions from my observers you would have thought I killed someone and more observers were called into see what I was doing. Well, thankfully I didn’t ruin it and proved them wrong when they tried it and what?!? Enjoyed it! Now they’re actually asking me to teach them how to make MY rice. HAHA GLORY!

I was quite proud of myself, thinking back I probably should have taken a picture to mark this momentous occasion. Now before you all stop reading this because you can’t handle any more of my extreme bragging; I’ll humble myself a bit and share with you my day from hell.

The next morning I used the leftovers to make the infamous, gallo pinto. It tasted fine and all was well. I was getting ready to go to class and was suddenly overcome by extreme nausea….that’s right I had food poisoning and what’s worse is I gave it to myself! I spent the entire morning vomiting and pretty much wanted to die. All of this occurred within 30 minutes of eating the gallo pinto. At 9AM it started and after I felt a bit better at around 1PM I tried to eat some crackers and after 30 minutes passed I was vomiting again.

I’m a bit guy shy of making my own food again, and so are my neighbors because I was invited to lunch with one family today. No worries though, I’ve discovered the culprit was the rice and from now on I’m only going to make enough for the meal and toss the rest. I never want to experience the vomit fest again, and won’t be taking any risks with rice.

In other news, only 15 days until I’m in the USA! I will be avoiding rice there as well….unless it’s with sushi!