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