El Salvador

The past two weeks have been a total whirlwind. I want to tell you first about our year end retreat and then about my week in El Salvador. At the end of every year we have a retreat called reorientation—disorientation. The idea is to reorient first years as we become second years and to prepare the second years for the disorientation of returning to the US after two years abroad. We again went to La Garnacha up in the mountains of Estelí. The beauty of this place has never gotten old, even after three trips this past year. The retreat was a great time to reflect on the past year looking back on all that we’ve been through and at all the ways in which we have grown. I think more importantly it helped us look ahead to the coming year. There are lots of changes coming with our move to Ciudad Sandino and I needed a chance to regroup and prepare myself, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually. I am really excited for the changes coming ahead. Our new volunteers are coming already on December 2^nd!

About a week ago I caught a bus to El Salvador. I went for the 10^th anniversary Casa de la Solidaridad reunion and also for the 20^th anniversary of the UCA martyrs. I got in a couple days early so I stayed with my friend Chris is working on a Fullbright in El Salvador. It was really great to see him and hear about the great work he is doing. I am so lucky to be surrounded by friends who are doing awesome and inspiring things. I am consistently amazed to hear about the things my friends are doing: living and working abroad, living in intentional communities, getting advanced degrees, medical school, teaching, government work, lobbying, volunteering, community organizing, and pretty much changing the world all over the place. Seeing so many old friends (and new ones) at the reunion was so great and much needed after almost a year without seeing so many of the people I know and love. It was almost like a dream having so many of them so close to me. When I left early yesterday morning I felt empty and so sad to leave them again.

A highlight of the week in El Salvador was returning to Tepecoyo where I spent a lot of time as a student, getting to know the community and also teaching English. After two and a half years without visiting I figured people would’ve forgotten me, but I was pleasantly surprised when kids not only remember me but my name as well. It floored me. I felt so grateful all day for everyone at my praxis site. If it hadn’t been for them I probably would never have done JVI and if it wasn’t for my year in Nicaragua I couldn’t have spoken Spanish with them as well as I did. Throughout the day with friends in Tepecoyo I realized I was able to share more and understand better anything I did my semester in El Salvador. Learning Spanish has continually opened my world to people, to better understand and really begin to know them.

Yesterday I arrived back in Managua, exhausted after 11 hours on a bus and about thirty minutes of sleep the night before. When I woke up at 5am this morning to go to work I thought I would go through the day just missing my friends who had also just left Salvador headed all over the world. However, on the bus I ran into my friend Yamil and we got to catch up and debrief a lot from the last week. Once at school I was attacked with hugs from kids wondering where I had been and they all told me they had missed me. Once again I was just filled with a sense of gratitude for all the people that love me and keep me going here: friends in El Salvador, Nicaragua, and the US. That’s an amazing support network. Les agradezco a todos y todas.

Finally I am left with something Trena, co-director of the Casa, told us at the reunion, “You only pass by this place once.” It’s something that she found important as a JV in Belize years ago and I think it’s true for everyone and especially for me right now. Now matter where you are in life it is unique and will never happen again in the exact same way. Over the past two weeks I had a chance to take stock of how far I’ve come over the past couple years and I am just so grateful. I hope over the next year I can really aprovechar like I have this past one.

Photos from the week:

Amilcar, Jose Luis, and I rocked out to some Salvadoran folk tunes in Tepecoyo.

Rodrigo and some other former students in Tepecoyo

Casa and Romero Program students creating an alfombra or "rug" at the UCA. These "rugs" are made out of dyed salt and are washed away at night by people walking through them during the vigil.


The finished alfombra


Belize and Nica JVs together at the UCA martyrs Vigil! Emily and Matt from PG, Belize, and Megan, Jenna, and me from Mangua.


Me, Allison, and Colin. Amig@s por siempre, pues sí.

Flooding in El Salvador

Dear Friends,

As many of you know there has recently been horrendous and deadly flooding in El Salvador. I am currently visiting San Salvador for the vigil of the UCA martyrs and reports of the devestation are coming in from all over the country. Casa alums have set up this website to facilitate collaboration from North America with the relief effort. NGOs and relief agencies have been slow to respond. If you can, please help.

http://friendsofsantamaria.blogspot.com/

Continuing Updates from Honduras

I recently went to a talk by two young American women who have been going back and forth between Nicaragua and Honduras as a solidarity presence to the people struggling after the overthrow of Manuel Zelaya. I really feel the call to share some of the information they shared with us about their firsthand experience, on the ground in Tegucigalpa. The media is doing a poor job at best on reporting from Honduras. At worse, there is deliberate media silence when it has come to many military and police abuses since the coup in June.

I will start where they started their story. They were present in Tegucigalpa when Zelaya returned on September 21st, taking refuge in the Brazilian embassy. That Monday at 4pm nationwide curfew was called and was not lifted until 10am on Wednesday. Many Hondurans live day to day on food bought in their neighborhoods and from markets. Because of the curfew people were calling in to radio stations reporting that for fear of arrest they could not leave their homes for food and their kids were going hungry. Also, as of Sept.21, Micheletti suspended all constitutional rights for 45 days as part of a national state of emergency plan. How can free and fair elections be held when months leading up to the election constitutional rights are being withheld by a questionably legal government?
Police and military repression has grown increasingly violent over the past months. The Brazilian embassy has been surrounded by the military. Psychological tactics have been used to coerce Zelaya out including, blaring loud music over the embassy walls, and setting up scaffolding over the walls to constantly observe. Snipers have been sighted keeping watch on the embassy. It has been assaulted with toxic tear gas. An eight year old girl in the surrounding neighborhood died in her home of asphyxiation from the gas used at the embassy by the police and military. Police have reportedly been using iron batons and wooden batons with nails in them. Both are illegal. Disappearances have become more common as resistance leaders have been identified by police and military. Prisoners have been beaten, tortured, and moved around the country thus making it difficult for family members and lawyers to find prisoners. Police are not only breaking up demonstrations but are pursuing protesters into neighborhoods and brutally beating them even after they've dispersed. One man was beaten as he carried his young daughter in his arms leaving a demonstration.

Who is protesting?
Most people I have talked to in the states think it is Zelaya supporters and leftists in the same camp as Chavez. Yes, there are some. However, as I've been informed the majority of protesters are women, indigenous, teachers, students, and lawyers groups. They are calling for a general overhaul of the constitution. Constitutionality is the priority, not Zelaya, not an international Leftist front. The resistance movement has been overwhelmingly peaceful. To date there has been no call to arms. This nonviolence resistance has made the brutal repression by police and military even more extreme and unjust.

Media Coverage
Micheletti has closed numerous radio and television stations who reported what was happening in the streets. Some have recently been reopened. However, these antidemocratic moves are very troubling especially if they plan on going through with elections in November.
Also, US coverage has been abysmal. For example, on Sept. 21st, while Zelaya was returning and military crackdown was underway, The Washington Post published an op-ed by Micheletti sighting the great progress and the strength of democracy in Honduras. The American public is not seeing truth. Not even in Nicaragua are we seeing what is really going on. I recommend this website for more information from the ground: http://www.narconews.com/

A Quintessential Couple O Weeks

So, the past few weeks have been good and busy. It was a quintessential couple weeks: surfing, the beach, work, buses, moto taxis, retreat, slacklining, and good ol JV community time. I think I'll start by just talking about the following pictures.
But first I have to mention something that I have no pictures of....which is a shame. Last week I was a judge in an English competition between a few schools near where I work, including Roberto Clemente. There were 25 groups and individuals singing songs in English. I was enlisted to judge pronuciation, intonation, security, and domain. Highlights included Three Little Birds by Bob Marley and Crank That by Solja Boy. The kid who sang Crank That actually did an amazing job and unanimously won between me and the two other judges. The actual event lasted over four hours and by the end I was exhausted. It was a really interesting cultural experience. The songs kids chose, and English songs that tend to be popular in Nicaragua, were from the 70s and 80s. Michael Jackson songs were definately a hit. (Not surprising to those close to me, they were not high scorers from the American judge. I tried to be unbiased but I can only listen to Thriller so many times.) At the end of the event, when I and the two other Nicaraguan judges tallied the scores I noticed our scores were sooo different. They scored the cheesy 70s songs really high and I scored the newer pop-ier songs higher. Since I speak English, they tended to just accept my scores and forget their own. This made me feel really uncomfortable because the kids were not being judged fair. I told them we should just tally the points and not guestimate like they were doing. I was saved by the bell because my ride home showed up and I had to leave. I gave them my scores and walked away hoping they would do what's right but also realizing it was out of my hands. It was so uncomfortable and a good example of unintended gringo priveledge.


This photo was taken from our patio after a rain storm. The view of the sky through our little window of razor wire is often the only natural beauty we get in the house and around Managua.

I went SURFING. Well, kind of, I tried. I went with friends Kelly and Joe (above). It was so great to get out of the house and head to the beach. It was even better because we drove in the pickup of a friend of theirs and I got to use the unofficial JV surfboard, which was left here by some backpackers a couple years ago.


This shot is of the community overlooking Lake Masaya. We took an overnight retreat at Flor de Pochote. It was really good to get out of the heat of Managua and relax a bit.

I love me some slackline.


Chritine and I washing our feet in the pila at Flor de Pochote after some intense barefooted slacklining adventures.

Loosen My Grip

Loosen My Grip
by Ted Loder

O God, it is hard for me to let go,
most times,
and the squeeze I exert
garbles me and gnarls others.
So, loosen my grip a bit
on the good times,
on the moments of sunlight and star shine and joy,
that the thousand graces they scatter as they pass
may nurture growth in me
rather than turn to brittle memories.

Loosen my grip
on those grudges and grievances
I hold so closely,
that I may risk exposing myself
to the spirit of forgiving and forgiveness
that changes things and resurrects dreams and courage.

Loosen my grip
on my fears
that I may be released a little into humility
and into an acceptance of my humanity.

Loosen my grip
on myself
that I may experience the freedom of a fool
who knows that to believe
is to see kingdoms, find power, sense glory;
to reach out
is to know myself held;
to laugh at myself
is to be in on the joke of your grace;
to attend to each moment
is to hear the faint melody of eternity;
to dare love
is to hear the wild flowers of heaven.

Loosen my grip
On my ways and words,
On my fears and fretfulness
that letting go
into the depths of silence
and my own uncharted longings,
I may find myself held by you
and linked anew to all life
in this wild and wondrous world
you love so much,
so I may take to heart
that you have taken me to heart.

Loder, Ted. Guerrilas of Grace. Innisfree Press, Inc: 1984, 48-49.

Loosening my grip has been harder than I ever imagined. A couple weeks ago I was held up in our sweltering house for a week with a fever, headache, and cough. Let’s say it was an unconfirmed case of the flu, H1N1, who knows? Regardless what we name it, it was awfully unpleasant. At the beginning of the week, sleeping all day and drinking copious amounts of water was no big deal. I had no other desires. Toward the third and fourth days I was starting to feel a little trapped, which is easy to do in our house where is reaches 100 degrees during the day and is enclosed with concrete and razor wire. Books saved me: Guerrillas of Grace, Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, and most importantly The River Why. The prayer/poem Loosen My Grip really struck me when I was sick because I was so unable to let go, relax, and just let myself get better. I wanted to be better immediately. Why wait? I’m young, strong, intelligent, and couldn’t move more than to get to the bathroom and back. That was a hard realization. Reading The River Why was an incredible experience. I devoured the book, reading it in just two days. It brought out in me three things that I find key in my life: relationships, spirituality, and nature. It was an amazing and, for me, a life changing book.

It just started to rain. It hasn’t rained much this month. They say it’s El Niño that’s been causing the dry spell. In the words of Chris Farley, “El Niño is Spanish for, The Niño.” It sure is pouring right now. The temperature dropped about 15 degrees and the house is filled with the sound of the rain beating down on our tin roof. It is glorious. I need this cooling off before heading back to another week of work. I feel refreshed. (By the way, is there a hurricane coming through Central America because it is really raining!)

When Windshields Explode

Who knew that windshields could just spontaneously explode? I sure didn't. This weekend is a holiday weekend here in Nica. The 14th and 15th are yearly celebrations of Central American and Nicaraguan independence respectively. Yesterday, Megan and I were hitching a ride with friends up to Esteli with plans of continuing up to Somoto to do some hiking and more than anything retreat from the grind of Managuan life. Not half an hour outside of Managua the entire windshield exploded with a loud pop. We couldn't see anything through the spiderweb of splintered glass. After pulling over, Megan entertained the 2 and 5 year old kids in the car while Andrew, Fabien, and I picked glass from the front seats and the hole left by the glass. After waiting for about two hours in the midday sun a friend of theirs picked up Fabien, the kids, and Megan. Andrew and I drove the car back to their house in Managua, never getting over 25 mph. I was worried about inhaling glass dust and particles so I wore sunglasses and a bandit-style red bandanna over my mouth. We looked ridiculous driving through Managua with the front windshield completely gone. Once I finally got home I was exhausted and my slight cough that I woke up with had moved down into my chest. I had a fever of 100 and chills all evening. What a great way to spend vacation! Not. So much for mountains. Luckily they aren't going anywhere; nor am I.

Here is one of my new favorite bands, The Avett Brothers. I hope you enjoy em.

Take care and if anyone can explain to me how and why a windshield would spontaneously explode please let me know.
Also, any good music? Pass it my way! Thanks!

Being Different

This post is primarily in response to Monica's question posted in July about being a minority in Nicaragua.
It's an interesting question because I experience different things because of my white skin. Most people seeing me for the first time assume I am a tourist or working for an NGO. I am often called "Gringo" or "Chele" in the street. The term Gringo only refers to people from the US and it's funny because there are many white people here who are not from the US but are called Gringos regardless. Also, there are many lightskinned Nicaraguans who are called Chele as well. It just means white. It's very common here to refer to a stranger by their skin tone: negro (dark or black), moreno (tan or mestizo), and chele (white). There is a common perception, and not unfounded, that white people have money. This creates certain security concerns. I personally have not had any problems. Sometimes I completely forget that I stand out so much. I take the same bus everyday so I see many of the same people along the way. I don't stand out so much. I carry a very common bootleg Jansport backpack that is ripping and dirty and mind my own business. A couple times cobradores (fair collectors) have tried to rip me off on the bus. They try to take advantage by assuming I don't know the bus fare, thus overcharging me. I always check the price beforehand and know better than to be taken advantage of.
More than discrimination I experience white privilege. At work I'm not a normal teacher. I can take off when I need to. I live simply on my $40 per month stipend, but I also have a bank account and a family in the United States. I don't think I actively exercise my privilege, but it's a reality of life here. People just assume I have tons of money, regardless whether they want to steal it or sell me something. The level of discrimination I experience here is absolutely nothing in comparison to that experienced by minorities in the US. I even hesitate calling what I experience here discrimination. But I certainly am different.