November Reflections

This update is long over due. As my months left in Nicaragua have turned into weeks left, it is hard to find time to stop and update my blog. As you might expect the time we are entering as a community is very busy. We are currently in our second week of a visit from the International Programs Office of JVC (formally known as JVI). Last week both the Managua and Ciudad Sandino communities went to La Garnacha for Re-Orientation/Dis-Orientation. This year me tocó the disorienting side of the retreat experience. We spent time reflecting on the past year's challenges and successes. We did some social analysis and reflection on some of the injustices we come in contact with on a daily basis, migration, the education system, machismo, etc. The last day of the retreat focused mostly on the upcoming disorienting experience of returning to the United States and the likely reverse culture shock we are bound to experience. I can only imagine returning in the blustery cold of December amidst the loco Christmas consumer frenzy will be, well, disorienting. I am looking forward to catching up with old friends and slowly unpacking the last two years as I move back home to Cincinnati, at least for a time.

I also wanted to mention and honor today the 21st anniversary of the UCA martyrs of El Salvador. Their witness to justice and peace continues to inspire me and I want to hold them close on this very special day. I also want to thank all those who continue to work for justice and peace so that atrocities like their assasination never happen again. I send blessings to all those make the pilgrimage to Washington D.C. and Ft. Benning to stand for peace and justice. ¡Presente!

Oh, September!

Oh sweet September, where did you go? The days keep slipping through my fingers. I'm sorry it has taken awhile to get this updated. I have to admit that with my waning days in Nicaragua this blog has taken a backseat. It's certainly not for a lack of eventful days, visitors, and great stories. It is harder though to sit still long enough to reflect on my days and put down something on a word processor. Oh, that's the other factor, my laptop has finally succombed to the brutal Nica JV lifestyle. Adios amigo.

So, here's where I'll start...

At the beginning of September a long anticipated visitor arrived, Allison! Her visit was everything I had hoped for and so much more! We spent the first couple days around Manangua, Ciudad Sandino, and even went to Granada for an afternoon. She accompanied me in class and my students took to her right away. A group of second graders especially fell in love with her and just today, a month later, asked me when she was coming back. (Sorry, Chavalos, she's not coming back anytime soon.) After a few days of teaching and meeting coworkers we went on a double date with Yamil and his girlfriend. We ate and drank our fair share of Salvadoran pupusas and Victoria. On Wednesday we headed north to Matagalpa for one night and then over to Estelí. I just had to show her one of my favorite places in the whole wide world: La Garnacha. But, what's travelling in Central America without a couple unexpected turns. When we arrived to La Garnacha we realized there were no rooms at the inn! We ended up staying in the very humble home of the Italian parish priest who wasn't in. Despite the noctural guests that scurried over the rafters we enjoyed ourselves and enjoyed our cabin the following day much more! Here are some photos from our time together:

Allison with her new second grade friends

Me and Yubelkis

Just one example of Nicaragua's Beauty and Allison's photo skills

Don Humberto, a resident Nicaraguan scultor showed us around his property full of rock scultures and inspired us with his words, "Lo Soñé y tenia que hacerlo," or I dreamed it so I had to do it. Right on.

In other news we have all been doing pretty well. We celebrated national holidays on the 14th and 15th of September. Those were som much appreciated days off work. On the 14th we had a big fundraiser at school that involved making a ton of food. The day before I went with some coworkers to Mercado Oriental, the biggest outdoor market in Central America. It was a crazy experience. I have only been there a couple of times and quite honestly it is always an overwhelming experience. It is just so big. At one point I was carrying close to 100 pounds of yucca on my back. I almost got lost because I couldn't see where I was going. Luckily I was able to put it down to get my bearings. Unfortunately I couldn't get it back up on my shoulder. I must have looked pretty desperate because some guy came over and heaved onto my back. I thought I was a gonner.

As my days continue to countdown I hope to have some more reflections coming your way. I also imagine that in the months following my return I will be able to have some space to sit, reflect, and write about my experience.


Also, if you haven't seen this yet, it is pretty disturbing to say the least. http://www.cnn.com/2010/WORLD/americas/10/01/us.guatemala.apology/index.html?hpt=T2

Guides, We Don't Need No Stinkin' Guides!

So, if you are a long time reader of this blog you may remember back last year when Michael, Sean, Joe, and I scaled the volcano Telica. It was a long hike, but pretty straight forward-about four hours up, and two back down again. The trick to the hike is knowing the trail. The last time we went, Michael told me about the numerous failed attempts former JVs had made, including himself. That said, we made it up without a glitch. We just had to make it to the mango tree in a big field and turn right there.

Well, a couple weeks ago Sean, Thomas, Yamil, and I got the great idea to go back and do it again. We knew the trail would be much different now that it was rainy season. We thought we would remember the trail when we came to it. Oh were we wrong. In all honesty there is no real "trail" like we know in the states. There are no white blazes as seen on the Appalachian Trail. You basically have to get off the bus toward the town of Malpaisillo, at the Quimera stop, walk down under a bridge into a riverbed and follow that until you reach an unmarked campesino trail. One farmer riding bareback on a little horse told us we were going the wrong way, that we should go down to the end of the trail, turn left at the corn, walk straight to the "L" then at the stone wall turn right and just keep walking to the top. It sounded easy enough. But we walked all day and never once saw that godforsaken mango tree.
We got lost, turned around, and upside down. We were never in danger because I had a GPS and we knew where to find the highway. The trick was negotiating miles of barb wired farmland that lay between the road and the volcano. According to the GPS, at the end of the day, we had walked about 13 miles and gained a mere 500ft. in elevation. That's nothing. When we finally stopped to turn back to the bus the summit was miles away and shrouded in a low lying rain cloud. It was disappointing, but we still had a great time singing rugby songs translated into Spanish, telling stories about past hiking trips, and chatting it up with local farmers along the way. The farmers were all very sympathetic, admitting to us that it was a hard trail to get up and easy to get lost. They offered to guide us if we wanted to go again sometime. Hopefully there will be a next time! Only four months left until my journey north!

Yamil shaking his head at how damn lost we got.

Thomas and Sean looking tired after deciding to turn back around three o'clock.

Thomas freaked out when he saw this snake on the trail. Luckily it was busy devouring a brightly colored lizard.

We followed these cattle most of the way back to the highway.

Signs, But You Don't Believe in Signs

Wednesday morning was one of those Wednesday mornings I wish I had stayed in bed for. Sometimes they are nice relaxing mornings for reading, talking with students, planning classes, etc. This morning was different. I was asked by my boss to substitute in a second grade class until their teacher returned from a medical appointment. I took a deep breathe and accepted the challenge. For the past year and a half this group has notoriously given me the most trouble, the biggest headaches, and the highest blood pressure. Needless to say, I was not excited about what was to come.
I was given no plans for class so I went to the other second grade teacher to ask her the what to do. She said, "llévelos a educacion física." Great, I thought, take them outside, wear 'em down, and then put them to sleep until their teacher gets back. Well, after an hour of litterally running around chasing a dirty flat soccer ball the kids came back into the classroom covered in sweat and dirt. They actually sat and worked on some Spanish work for about fifteen minutes until a wave of dissent slowly swept over the group of 40 seven-year-olds. I could feel my stress levels slowly rising as I witnessed the ungluing of order in the little classroom. One student, Gary Sheffield (Yes, the same name as the MLB ball player. Yes, I had to look that up.), went Ringo Starr in the corner of the room on a couple of buckets with whiteboard markers. Then one boy roundhoused another in the head and they started to punch each other in the face. I about lost it. Aftering telling Gary to sit down so many times I almost went hoarse, I changed tactics. I said, "Gary, come here, I want to talk with you." We had the following chat (in Spanish originally):

Me: Gary, how are you?
Gary Sheffield: Well.
Me: Did you eat breakfast?
GS: No.
Me: Nothing?
GS: Nothing.
Me: Where do you live?
GS: Over there.
Me: Do you live with your mom?
GS: No, she lives in Costa Rica.
Me: With your dad?
GS: No, he lives in Costa Rica.
Me: Who do you live with?
GS: With my grandma and aunt.
Me: Do you get to play much at home?
GS: No, they don't let me play in the street.
Me: Do you want to bring your desk over so you can work with me?
GS: Yes.

That's where the conversation ended. I thought I had him. I thought I had used my training in popular education to win some trust, to get into his shoes a little bit, to treat him like an adult instead of yelling at him. That's what we preach at Fe y Alegría. But, I lost him. He went back to his corner to kick out some more jams on his makeshift drumset. Damn.
Their teacher finally arrived around 9am. I had only spent 2 hours with them, but I was spent.
I walked to the snack bar to treat myself to a much deserved liquid refreshment. As I turned from the bar, with my cold 7up in hand, I heard the song Another Day in Paradise by Phil Collins playing from the boombox behind the bar. I laughed outloud--paradise. If that's not enough, later that same day, I had what some would call an existential coincidence (as seen in the movie I ♥ Huckabees). A senior approached me with her English homework. In surprisingly good English she asked me, "Can you proofread this song for me?" She handed me her notebook where the lyrics to Another Day in Paradise were perfectly written. With wide eyes I proofread the song and walked away shaking my head. I could hear my mom's words in my head, quoting one of her favorite movies, "signs, but you don't believe in signs." Call it a sign or an existential coincidence; it was strange. It got me thinking about Gary and my other students. They deal with stuff I can't even imagine: malnourishment, broken families from abuse, divorce, and migration, lack of infrastructure and resources. In sociology and political science classes we talked and debated about things like malnourishment and infrastructure. It was all too abstract. Here those topics become all too real. Too real to even see on a daily basis. On Wednesday morning all I needed was a sign, a moment of grace, to reveal the poverty and stuggle that is always hidden in plain sight. Sometimes all it takes is a little Phil Collins to put things in perspective.

And now for your viewing and listening pleasure, I present to you, Phil Collins.

Mi Prima en Nica

Last week I had the great pleasure of welcoming my cousin to Nicaragua. We were able to travel for a couple days up in northern Nicaragua, near the Honduran border. We went to the Cañon de Somoto and to the city of Esteli. It was a quick trip but such a blast. I loved the canyon. The guide we were with kept saying the water was too high to really get into it, but I just kept thinking to myself, "this water is nothing compared to the New or Gauley." If only I had my kayak, then I could really get in there. Apparently the water goes right up to the slick canyon walls and when the water is up, like it was, there are some gnarly waves. Even in the little bit we floated down there were some strong eddy lines and strange currents that pushed us all around. I loved it.

A view of the countryside

Geting the boat ready

Tori and I getting paddled up river

A view from inside the canyon

The Beginning of the End?

Well, I remember this time last year and how fast the year flew from this point on. Everything seems to accelerate after July vacations. The second semester just began on Monday and I'm already estactic to hear that we have next Monday and Tuesday off because of a national holiday.
My relationship with work is hard. (This might be the story of my life) It is tiring and sometimes really frustrating. However, there are some days when I absolutely love being at school. I love the kids, the smiles, the hugs, even the silly and ridiculous ancedotes they tell me throughout the day. One first grader, Yubelkis, always bursts into a heart crushing smile whenever we make eye contact. Little kids are always stopping me in the halls or at recess to tell me all sorts of interesting things: "My aunt lives in Miami, do you know her?" "my papá has a motorcyle!" or "Look at the ten córdobas (50 cents) I have!" It doesn't matter how mundane the story appears; I feel honored they've shared it with me. On the surface these stories seem simple or sweet but under the surface they are much more. They tell the story of a child who misses her aunt, of a boy proud of his father who drives him to school every morning on his way to work at a maquila, or a girl who is excited to buy a snack at recess because she only ate a tortilla for breakfast. Children's stories are often filled with much more depth, wisdom, and vulnerability than I realize.
I will miss these kids.
When I think about leaving right now that's what I think about most. Sure, there are the superficial things I dream about: what will be the first microbrew I'll drink? or how soon can I get my kayak in the water? or Really how cold is December in Cincinnati? At the end of the day I know I will miss my students. Notice I say students, not the work. You can take the work and shove it, but the kids they stay.


On a different note I hope you like the changes to the blog. I thought it could use a little freshening up.

Check out this photos from out latest retreat at Poneloya beach


This is the photo we sent to the new volunteers. It's tradition that they don't see our faces before arriving at the airport in early December. So, if you're a new volunteer look no further!

We buried Andrea up to her neck and asked some fishermen to take our picture

Transformation in Community

The following was written on Wednesday May 27^th 2010.

I was sitting in the teacher’s lounge this afternoon planning for my Technical English class which was a mere ten minutes away. My boss, Mario, came into the room and told me I would not be giving class today. Instead, I would be accompanying a group of fifty 10^th graders to the house of their teacher and my coworker, Elizabeth, whose brother tragically died this week in a car accident. Mario also told me that instead of moving my missed class to next week I would have both of my classes on Friday morning, my free day. Great, I thought, not only am I responsible for fifty 16 year olds on an impromptu field trip through the streets of Ciudad Sandino but I also just wasted an hour planning for a class that I won’t have to give. The following hour put my minor inconveniences and complaints in perspective.

For three days it has been raining off and on. All day it has been drizzling and the dirt streets of Ciudad Sandino are like a swamp. It reminded me of stream-walking with my dad and brother as a child. As we walked through the misty streets it was hard not to feel the ominous presence of death at the end of the road. When we arrived at Elizabeth’s house the door was closed. Someone knocked and the door opened slowly. The kids stood around the door in utter silence and respect for their profe. The rain continued to fall as we listened to her story. I stood in the back of the group. I couldn’t make out much of what she was saying. I started to look around, taking in the surroundings of this typical Ciudad Sandino street. Across the street an old grey haired man sat on the ground in soiled clothes talking drunken nonsense to himself. Another man walked down our side of the street and yelled to the old drunk man, ¿Dónde venden guaro? (Where do they sell booze?) The old man just pointed a gnarled finger down the street. The man nodded and zealously walked toward his next fix. Just then two rough looking guys in their mid-twenties came riding by on an old bicycle. One was wielding a machete and kept making comments about the students and their gringo teacher. I looked away and realized how uncomfortable I felt. The drizzle turned to a steady rain. Elizabeth invited everyone into her small and humble living room. There wasn’t enough room for everyone so I stood in the doorway, one foot in one foot out. All I could hear was the rain on the tin roof mixed with the sound of sniffles and kids praying for Elizabeth and her family.

I never know what to say in situations like this. All I managed to squeeze out was, “Realmente lo siento.” (I’m really sorry) It was such a sad and sobering experience. I cannot imagine losing my little brother. As I stood at Elizabeth’s house I started thinking about how sad it would be to lose someone not only to an accident, but to something like alcoholism or gang violence. They seem like much slower but perhaps more painful forms of death. Amidst the moribund imagines that surrounded us this afternoon I was encouraged and empowered by the spirit of community brought by my students. In my experience as a North American, death is a personal experience to be felt and dealt with in privacy. I truly believe that death, in any form, should be confronted by community. Whether it is like my students coming to visit, pray with, and hug their teacher, or like the many community initiatives I see working all over Ciudad Sandino to confront domestic abuse, substance abuse, and gang violence. Community is so powerful because it can provide the support to grieve and mourn, which ultimately can lead to transformation. This reminds me of the apostles gathered together after the death of Jesus. They gathered to mourn the death of their great friend. In the end they were filled with the Spirit and emboldened to go forth, live the gospel, and denounce the injustice of what had happened to their friend Jesus of Nazareth. In community they were filled with the hope of the resurrection and were transformed. In my experience, personal and communal transformation unfolds when suffering is met with prayer and intentional accompaniment of those who suffer.

Although I initially wasn’t thrilled to accompany my students today I have come again to realize it is they who continually teach me.

Un Poco de Todo, an update

So, the winter has started here in Nicaragua. There is no snow nor warm apple cider...just rain - a lot of it. Almost every night this week it has rained profusely. It started pouring last and did not stop until this morning. The air and earth are saturated with moisture.

May is the month of Mothers. So, Happy Mother's Month. Monther's Day is actually celebrated this coming Sunday here in Nica. A little known fact about Mother's Day here is that is was started by the dictator Somoza in honor of his mother. Oddly enough it has struck throughout the years, even
the revolutionary 80s.

A new responsability I have taken on at school is co-facilitating the student newspaper. In reality I do very little. The students really do the work and are really animated to get it done. They have also started a blog. I have to warn you that it is really new. I hope there are more updates soon. The title of the paper is Voz Estudiantil (Student's Voice).

Last friday we celebrated Pentecostés with a mini-vigil on Friday night. We had three break-out sessions for kids, teens, and adults and then came back together for mass and a bonfire.



After the vigil Dora, Yamil, Christine, and I met Lauren and our friends from Cantera at El Club for a couple brewskies, live music, and pool.
We were celebrating Dora's 30th birthday! ¡Feliz Cumpleaños Dorita!

Yamil, Dora, and me

Playing Billares

Cincinnati Video Pals

So, my friend Megan teaches Spanish at a school back in Cincinnati. She recently sent Thomas, another JV, and me a video from her class asking questions about life here in Nicaragua. Here is the original video full of great questions.





After we saw this awesome video we were struck by some of the very intriguing questions. We sat down right away to construct our response. We had such a great time making the video! Here is our response.




Thanks to Megan and her class for the great assignment!

¡Visita del Padre General Adolfo Nicolás, SJ!

It was such an honor today to have Father General Adolfo Nicolás SJ visit Colegio Roberto Clemente. It is not everyday that the Father General comes to Nicaragua. It may be the only time he passes by this way. He spent about an hour and a half here at school where he took a short tour and met with student and faculty representatives from the four Fe y Alegría schools in the area. There were a number of short speeches and cultural acts, including an amazing violin and guitar acompaniment by one of my students and her father. For me the highlight of the morning was hearing the Father General's short talk. Instead of preaching to the students he walked in front of the podium and began to ask them questions. In his few, but impactful, words he emphasized the role of education as a means to joy, faith, tolerance toward non-christian religions(!) and service to others, en todo amar y servir (In everything love and serve). Fe y Alegría as a project of the Jesuits serves over one million students worldwide. Colegio Roberto Clemente was chosen to receive the Father General because it was the first Fe y Alegría school in Nicaragua, founded in 1974. After spending the past ten years studying or working in Jesuits insitutions it was such an honor for me to meet the man in charge. As he was leaving my friend Yamil and I ran to get a photo with him. For being such a powerful and influential man in the Church he seemed, above all, like a genuine and humble man.

Here are some highlights from the morning:

Students waiting to welcome Adolfo Nicolás with flowers

Adolfo Nicolás SJ sitting with students from Colegio Roberto Clemente

Nicolás walking around campus with Roberto Clemente student, Fernando Cardenal SJ, national director of Fe y Alegría is seen in the background.

Yamil in front of the newly painted front wall in honor of the Father General's visit

Andrés a Swiss volunteer with Fe y Alegría, Adolfo Nicolás SJ, and me

Prof. Ena, me, Prof. Bertha, and Prof. Magaly from Col. Roberto Clemente

The Catch Up

I know it's getting bad in the blog department when my mom starts comparing my blog to that of Christine's. I know it's been sparse. The past month or so has been incredibly busy. We've had tons of guests, a week off for Holy Week, community retreat, and things at work keep me busy. Over Holy Week or Semana Santa we had three volunteers from Belize come down to visit. After about 6 buses, a boat, and a couple taxis they arrived at our house. It was great having other JVs in the house. I have to say, they were the easiest guests we´ve had. They knew just how to pitch in and how to sit idly in front of the fan with no need for entertainment. But in all seriousness, they are great girls and it was really special to share experiences of being a JV in two very distinct places. While the Belize JVs were here we took advantage of the Jesuit community's house at the Laguna de Apoyo. During Holy Week the beaches and lakes of Nicaragua are FULL of people. Sadly, many people die of drunken swimming and riptides. The lake where we went was happily chill with almost no one in sight, and gracias a Dios no one drowned.

Yesterday we returned from our first retreat of the year. Although it came a little late for us, the retreat was much needed. We were all feeling a little stretched thin. The first years are starting to get over the honeymoon period of being in love with Nicaragua, and I know at least I have been feeling tired and stretched thin. The second year experience while easier in many respects has many challenges. One of those challenges is staying present. For me it has been challenging to continually renew myself and continue to fall in love with my life here. Luckily, the theme of our retreat was Falling in Love. The theme comes from a saying of Pedro Arrupe, SJ.

“Nothing is more practical than finding God, that is, than falling in a love in a quite absolute, final way. What you are in love with, what seizes your imagination will affect everything. It will decide what will get you out of bed in the mornings, what you will do with your evenings, how you spend your weekends, what you read, who you know, what breaks your heart, and what amazes you with joy and gratitude. Fall in love, stay in love, and it will decide everything.”

I really needed this retreat. It helped me get some perspective, cool down, and in a small way re-fall in love with Nicaragua.
Work lately has been up and down. I don't know what happens but sometimes my students are amazing, wonderful, brights little people, and sometimes they are horrible and devilish beasts. I can't explain what happens. I'm sure it's a combination of my own energy levels and presense in class and how much sugar they ate at recess, among other factors. Today was one of those days when, in the middle of class, I thought to myself: What would happen if I crossed the street, packed one bag, and took off? Those feelings always pass. I know that I freely choose to be here everyday. There is something liberating in that. I do love my students, but man some days it is hard to love them.

Well, that's what I have for now. I am currently reading The Brother's K by David James Duncan. It's really good so far. There's a lot in it about this thing called Baseball. It's apparently some kind of sport. They say people like it... (Yes, that's for you Joe.) It's a modern redering of the Brother's Karamozov and most importantly by the author of The River Why.

Oscar Romero Disappeared by the Right...Again

I know I have not posted anything for such a long time, but I wanted to share this video. My community recently returned from El Salvador for the 30th anniversary of Oscar Romero's martyrdom. For the first time in 30 years the anniversary will be recognized by the Salvadoran government, however the Texas Board of Education thinks Romero is't worth remembering. This is a sad and comical.
In other news, things here are going well. Another, more updated, entry will be filed soon. Thanks for your patience.

The Daily Show With Jon Stewart	Mon - Thurs 11p / 10c
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First Days of Class

This past week I started giving Enlgish classes at school. My first class of Technical English went really. The kids are older, in tenth grade. I spoke almost entirely in English, and believe it or not they pretty much unterstood everything I said, with a little help from other students. I felt like the first day of class with them went so well. That is until day two. Only four out of thirty-five students did their homework and two of them copied off each other. It was really dissapointing. I let them know how dissappointed I was too. Hopefully the next class they will step up. Other than that things are going well. The little kids are loving the songs and children´s stories I´ve been reading to them. My mom brought down a Dora the Explorer book in English and Spanish. The kids love that and they are already picking up on the English parts.

The Change They Needed?

This may be a big surprise to most readers in the United States, but the situation in Honduras has not been resolved like the media has been reporting. In fact, it is quite the contrary.
Today I had the honor and priviledge of hearing from a Honduran journalist who has been exiled in Nicaragua. He was escorted out of Honduras, by human rights groups protecting his life, after four of his coworkers were assasinated and he was detained and tortured by military personel for 36 hours straight. They beat him on the bottom of his feet, his stomach, and his testicles. They essetionally waterboarded him by putting him under a chair and pouring water down his nose and mouth until near drowning. The strangled him with a wire. The stories he told were horifying and moved many to tears.
The military tortured him because they believed he was part of an armed resistance movement. This was not true. He has been one of the few journalist who has been able to get information out about what is really happening.
Honduras, for the past 7 months has been a militarized police state with little to no constitutional rights. The military took over any media outlet speaking out against the repression and even took over the autonomous national universities. Many people think that with the recent elections and with a new president in power things will change. This journalist does not believe so. He cannot go home.
This is any interesting fact: when the Managua mayorial elections were deemed fradulent in Fall of 2008 the US cut funds for the Millenium Challenge Goals in Nicaragua. There were no deaths, repression, or human rights abuses, but an already poor country was cut of much needed funds. In contrast, in the wake of an illegal coup accompanied by nationwide curfews, military repression, and more than 130 deaths at the hands of police and military, the United States never took a strong stance against what has happened and what continues to happen. The new president is but a figurehead for the powers that control Honduras. Sadly that includes the local church and nearly all economic and political interests. I recently have reflected that Americans are often lulled into a stuper with the election of a new president. I believed Obama would change US foreign policy and bring in a new reign of change and maybe even some "justice for all," not just US. Does a new president change anything? What has happened in Honduras is frighteningly similar to what happened all over Latin American during the Cold War, when Military Dictorships were more prevalent than democracies in the hemisphere. They were not only supported by the US but often created by the US. Why are these things still happening in Latin America? Thirty years from now will someone write another Bitter Fruit about what has happened in Honduras and will we realize that the intellectual authors were not the Honduran people but rather our own government officials and that is was financed by our very own tax dollars? I hope not, but we are responsible for what our government does abroad. We must stay informed and speak out.
I invite you to watch this video. I saw it earlier today. It is all real and a testimony to the horror felt by so many Hondurans, including the journalist who realized the project before being exiled to Nicaragua. It is found on the Quixote Center website. Check out this organization. They are doing some really good work.

Repression in Honduras / Honduras Reprimido from Quixote Center on Vimeo.

If the video does not work you can find hit here.

Back to School, Oh Back to School

Yesterday was the start of Año Escolar 2010. I cannot believe it is here already. The past two months of vacation and family visits seem like an ancient dream as I get back into work-life. I´ve recently been reflecting on last year at this time. I was overwhelmed and nervous to be around so many kids and teachers and I had no idea what I was doing. Today, on the second day of class I was called to sub for a sixth grade teacher who was coming in late. From 7 until 10:30 I subbed and basically taught a Spanish and Math class. I would´ve never dreamed last year that I could do that. I even maintained relative discipline.
I have some exciting news from school. I will be teaching English to all preschoolers through fourth graders, as well as teaching a technical English class to the kids working in the auto workshop. Many technical documents and instructions are in English, so I will be teaching them how to recognize, read, and speak this technical side of English. Now, I know how to change the oil on a car. I can change a flat. But, I don´t know much about crankshafts and piston rings. I´m reminded of the joke, I think my dad tells, about the Jesuit who asks another Jesuit, "Do you have a degree in astrophysics?" The other responds, "No, I haven´t taught that yet." That´s how I feel as I take on this new task of technical English. I think it will be really fun. I already am getting closer to the staff at the workshops. They have a great teachers lounge with internet and Mexican ranchera music playing all the time. I am very happy that I have been given more responsiblity at work and I feel likeI will be able to contribute more. If anyone has advice or experience teaching this kind of English please let me know. I´d love to bounce some ideas off you.
In other news the new volunteers are settling in quite well. Community life is off and rolling. We have been having some really great conversations about our intentionality and how we can more deepen our committments to simplicity and justice. One thing we are going to do is stop shopping at the Pali right by our house. We didn´t have one last year and it´s been really tempting to shop there because it´s cheap and convenient. However, it´s owned by Wal-Mart. Two of the three supermarkets in Nicaragua are owned by Wal-Mart. We have chosen instead to support the local outdoor market and our neighbers running ventas and pulperias out of their homes. (So, not to worry generous donors, your contributions are going to support the local economy, not line the pockets of the Wal family.)
Something I´ve been thinking about recently is going home. I don´t think it´ll be as easy to live in solidarity in the US. I know solidarity certainly looked different in college and will certainly look different when I get home. What does solidarity look like for you? Also, I´ll be home in December, 10 months and pico from now. Anyone got a good job for me? Let me know.

Looking Ahead

Now that vacation and visits are winding down I have been able to step back, take a breath, and look at the coming year. Work will not be changing too much for me. However, instead of giving classes planned by other teachers, I will be giving English classes to preschool through fourth grade. Also, my friend Yamil and I are planing on starting a movie club. We hope to show a movie a week and have some kind of discussion around them. We are thinking to have a theme for every month, for example: classic movies, Latino movies, justice, race, etc. Once Yamil and I put our heads together there's no stopping the ideas. I was also just gifted a basketball, soccer ball, and even a good ol rugby ball which could open up some opportunities for playing with my students. Last year I played a lot of basketball with some of the high school students. I don't know if it will turn into a coaching position but it should be a lot of fun shootin some b-ball outside of school.
One challenge so far has been reaching out to our community in Ciudad Sandino. Our house, although beautiful and spacious, is closed off and walled in. I get the feeling that our neighbors look poorly on us or at least write us off a bit as the rich white folks who live in the house where the nuns used to live. It will be interesting to see if we can form good relationships with the people in our neighborhood. It's slow going so far. I will need to be really proactive about getting out into the community because our house is literally right across the street from school. It will be really easy to just go back and forth with minimal connection with the larger community.
So there you have it, some reflections because the work really starts and my nose is back to the grindstone. More to come sooon. Salud.

The Fam Has Arrived

It's family time here in Nicaragua. Among the four second years who are now allowed to have visitors, three of us have our families visiting at practically the same time. My parents and brother arrived last Tuesday afternoon. We spent a few days in Ciudad Sandino and Managua, taking in the sites and meeting people. We spent New Year's eve in the Ciudad Sandino house with our friends Joe and Kelly and their friend Nicki. I was really looking forward to seeing what the Ciudad had to offer on this infamous night of polvoras and bombas (fireworks and bombs). You may remember that last New Year's I posted a video of our neighbors "Burning El Viejo," well they do it in the Ciudad too. At midnight we all went out to the street to watch fireworks and a bunch of our new neighbors came up to hug and greet us with New Year's blessings. In the morning, as is a Reynolds family tradition we had a ton of friends and coworkers over for a lunch grill out. As always we threw a great party and everyone had their fill of hamburgers, hotdogs, and even brats brought directly from the brat capital of the world: Cincinnati.
The fam and I are now on the road. We have never had a vacation like this before. My parents have never been to Latin America and we've never traveled internationally together. That said, things are going very well. We went to Volcán Masaya, the Laguna de Apoyo, and are currently in the colonial city of Granada.
It's been really cool to share both the everyday side of Nicaraguan life that is my community, friends, and school and also the natural beauty of the countryside, the Nicaragua that is "the land of lakes and volcanoes." Nicaragua is such a breathtakingly beautiful country.