más o menos asi (more or less like this)

The following photos represent bits and pieces of our daily lives here in Estelí.

Me and my composting worms.

This is the entrance to "Mujeres Ambientalistas" --my volunteer site. Below the sign is one of the directors and her daughter.

These two cuties I see on my way to "work" everyday. Its seems they are always outside their front door playing in the dirt.

When we travel, this is our mode of transportation.

We had a small birthday party for Jordan. The experience was very much like any birthday party we have had in the States,-the only real difference was the language spoken.


This is coffee. In our travels we have learned a great deal about coffee—from the dirt it grows in, to the final cup. We now have a much greater appreciation for that morning "cup o joe"! (AND——are even MORE committed to buying fair trade.)




This a the market where we buy most of our groceries. I LOVE it here. This is one of the things I will miss the most about living here——lots and lots of locally, organically (mostly) grown food.

This is my mom receiving a lesson on how to make tortillas

If we forget something at the market then the market comes to us.

The bakery also comes to our door. This is Jairo, he deliveres "pan dulce" to our doorstep every other day.

Watermelon smiles!



Greetings again from Nicaragua,

With more than seven and a half months behind us here in Estelí, Nicaragua it feels we are just now hitting our stride. We are forming friendships and it is now common to see people we know as we stroll about town. In many ways, it is beginning to feel like home. Nevertheless, the fact that we are foreigners is still an ever-present aspect of our existence.

Several things have transpired in the course of time since I last wrote. The following is a brief (ok! an attempt at being brief) recap of what fills our days here in Nicaragua.

The kids:
The girls have returned to school full time, and their language abilities continue to progress. Indeed, they—even more than Michael and I—are truly having an intense immersion experience. We can see in very tangible ways how much more confident they are after successfully assimilating into a new culture.It is a great source of pride for Michael and me. Even with all the mosquito bites, diarrhea, meltdowns, anxieties about the girl’s safety, and so forth, seeing the positive effects this experience has had on them has made our decision to spend our sabbatical in this way entirely worthwhile.

Me:
I continue to teach English to Devyn’s and Jordan’s classes twice per week. Given that I have no formal training in primary education, I have relied heavily on the expert advice of my mother and mother-in-law, both of whom are retired elementary teachers. To say that the teaching process that goes on in my classes is pedagogically effective would probably be an overstatement. I consider it a success if I can keep the kids from wounding each other and running about the room in a chaotic frenzy. As of late, I have discovered that I can keep them remaining sanely in their seats if I keep them occupied with arts and crafts projects (with instructions in English). I also bribe them. Some like to call it a “reward system”. I call it, “whatever works”!! ;-)

I have also begun volunteering with a women’s environmentalist project called “Mujeres Ambientalistas” (translation: women environmentalists). This project involves six women who live in a poor neighborhood on the outskirts of Estelí, making paper from recyclable and organic materials. They also work to educate the community concerning the benefits of recycling and composting—a difficult task in a culture where there are no organized recycling services and throwing your food wrapper on the ground when you are done with it is considered appropriate. With their paper the women make cards, envelopes, notebooks, bookmarks, and the like. With the proceeds of their work, they dream of one day being able to provide sustainable employment to single women who are fighting to provide for their families.

This project started fifteen years ago when a few women decided to clean up an area of unoccupied “green” space their neighborhood was using as a dump. Their goal was to set up a micro-enterprise in order to use the space for making compost—utilizing the “garbage” people were already throwing there—while also teaching the community what could be composted and what could not. Over the years, a few non-profit organizations sympathetic to their cause provided some funding for buildings and composting troughs. One group in particular showed them how to make paper using some of the same compostable materials (e.g. banana trees, vegetable peelings, and used paper products) and provided the paper making equipment. Today, the bulk of their efforts are devoted to making paper, but they still compost as well, using it for the benefit of the trees and plants on the yard.

I first encountered this group when I was searching for composting worms way back in the first few weeks we arrived. I so liked their products and their aspirations that I returned with each group of family members who came to visit us in December and January. During each visit, I learned a little more about their project. I had been looking for a volunteer venue to put my Spanish skills into practice and thereby to improve my language further, sooooo one fine day I mustered up the nerve to ask the women if I could help them with their paper making and educational endeavors. My salary, I explained, would be their conversations as we worked side-by-side and got to know each other. They happily accepted my proposal and warmly welcomed me into their fold. Little did I know at the time that making paper would turn out to be only one small part of my activities with these women and their project.

Shortly after I “became one of them,” as they put it, the women told me how disorganized they were with regard to business management practices. It seems the support they received in the past provided a great deal when it came to developing their business infrastructure, but fell short of providing any education about how to actually run and manage a business endeavor—especially one with the goal of growing its employee base (again, single women). I have since learned that this is very typical of many small “start up” businesses here in Nicaragua. The “managers” of this little enterprise haven’t had the opportunity to become educated about running a business, and thus they have little understanding of how to keep track of their sales and expenditures in a way that informs them about whether they are actually making any money—and how to use the money they do make to further their cause.

Don’t get me wrong. These women are very impressive. They work hard, and not just at making paper! Actually, making paper and compost is but a part-time job. They also care for children and parents, and carry the load of cleaning, shopping and cooking for the family. Most of them have other full-time jobs as well. One, in particular, helps her husband make horseshoes out of rebar—an extremely labor intensive task. They barely scrape together a subsistence living. They live in mud and scrap board houses, live off of beans, rice and tortillas, have no healthcare, and, like I have said, have had little or no opportunity for education. The fact that their paper making efforts are aimed at one day helping single women humbles me.

These hard-working women still hope to improve the productivity of their project. The more I got to know these women and learned about their project, the more invested I became in their “dream”. I suspected that perhaps there might be things I could do beyond just making paper to help them get a little closer to their goals. With their enthusiastic permission, I began to delve into several other activities in addition to making paper. For example, I have been working to link these women with services to help them reach (or at the very least, get closer to) their business goals. I have done some work on the computer, typing up advertisements and organizing materials (like vender contracts, price listings) to help them promote their products and explain their cause to the consumer. I have helped them write a letter requesting permission to sell their wears at the weekly fair. I have also written another letter asking the local government to officially deed the land to them. As it stands now, they only have squatters rights. (I hired my Spanish teacher to help me with this process. It was a great way for me to provide my Spanish teacher with work, receive a Spanish lesson, and get something done on behalf of these women’s project all at the same time). I continue to scout out and make contact with the “touristy” sites in town that might want to purchase their products for resale. And I am working to link the directors of the project with Nicaraguans who can teach them business administration skills, computer skills and marketing ideas. (I could provide some of these services, but I believe it is more important and far more effective if Nicaraguans are assisting other Nicaraguans in these types of endeavors. Wherever possible I sidestep being the person “in the know” because there are just as many Nicaraguans who desperately need the job, who are fully capable of offering the same information.) . In the words of my South Carolinian friend Bob Morgan, “I am just happy to be here, and God will’n I can help the team.” ;-)

As we plug along and I become more aware of the obstacles (almost always related to their poverty) to their business’s success, I realize again and again the need to “address first things first”. For example, before we can link these women with someone who can teach them some basic business administration and computer skills, we will have to schedule eye exams for at least two of the women—and then find them glasses. For the longest time I thought they couldn’t read. After a little time, and a bit more directness on my part, I found out they can read—they just can’t SEE!!! And they can’t afford to seek treatment. (Like I have said in previous blogs the poverty here is great. One of the everyday consequences of this degree of poverty is that the poor are forced to choose between food OR medical treatment. Eye care is considered a luxurious extra.) I am also talking with the women and gathering as much information as possible about them and their project in hopes of one day writing up a grant proposal or micro loan application. I have already located a possible grant source, but like I said before, first things first. First, they need to be able to see; second, they need to be linked with education and services; and third, we need to get better organized—and so on and so forth.

These are just a few of the examples of where my volunteering with these women has directed my energies. I really enjoy working with such people who, despite their own poverty, strive to help others they perceive as even worse off than themselves. Needless to say, I am getting far more education than just conversational Spanish. I have no idea how much I can accomplish with these women and their project in the next four and a half months, but I do know my life has already been enriched far more than anything I have or will have offered them in our short time together.

Michael:
For the first six months or so, all of us were relatively healthy. We should have knocked on wood or something, because that came to a screeching halt when Michael got very ill and was diagnosed with Hepatitis A. He is now doing fine and on the mend, but it took quite a bit of effort to get from doctor to laboratory and back again several times—and to understand what they were all saying to us. It was an extreme form of “learn your medical Spanish,” we’d rather not have to repeat. The confusing part of all of this was that Michael had been diagnosed with Hep A nearly twenty years ago. Presumably, the disease is a once-in-a-lifetime deal, and therefore Michael had to undergo many more tests than otherwise might have been necessary while the doctors tried to figure out what he was suffering from. In the end, all that anyone could figure was that either he had been misdiagnosed years ago—odd, since the symptoms and lab results were exactly the same—or that he was in fact a strange case in which the disease had occurred twice.

We feel very comfortable with the quality of care Michael received during this time. In fact, our own HMO in the States would probably never have authorized the numerous tests ordered and the amount of face-to-face contact time we had with the doctor. Moreover, Estelí is something of a Mecca for homeopathic medicine. Medicinally speaking, there is no cure for Hep. A; one must just wait it out. Having said that, our doctor here recommended some dietary alterations and homeopathic herbal remedies that we believe have sped Michael’s progress. (Again, we learned first hand how prohibitively expensive medical care is for the poor.) Again, we’re grateful that he is doing much better and, fortunately for Michael, his job is to sit around and read all day, something he can do with Hepatitis or without. ;-)

Well, that about sums up the gist of what keeps us occupied these days. When we are not doing the aforementioned activities we are hanging out with friends, playing games, strolling about town, cooking, cleaning, reading, traveling, and studying Spanish (me). As always, thank you for your interests in our journey this year, and we very much look forward to sharing all the nuances and details with many of you upon our return. Until next time! (Hasta luego!)
-Kelli

On Apples, Denial, and More . . .

Laguna de Apoyo, near Granada -- this old volcano crater lake makes for picturesque and fantastic swimming "hole"


The water's warm!


Hiking up Volcan Mombacho -- the clouds were really thick, but they opened up for us at the top just long enough to catch a breathtaking view of Granada and Lake Nicaragua


Marketplace in Granada


Sunset at San Juan del Sur -- we couldn't get Jordan out of the water all day


"Looking" for baby turtles trying to make their way to the ocean


I found my turtle!


Michael's Jan Term class in front of Laguna de Apoyo


The beauty of the mountains around Matagalpa (we spent a few days on a coffee plantation/farm called Selva Negra) inspired the girls to paint


Devyn has learned to sleep -- and even snore! -- on the bus, just like the locals. This picture was taken on the way back from Costa Rica, where we had to stay for two days in order to renew our Nicaraguan visas. Two twelve-hour travel days with long lines mixed in!



Hi all!

It has been a while since I have written. The silence is not due to the fact that there is little to say; in fact, the issue is quite the opposite. There is so much I could say that it is difficult to select what is most blogable. I struggle with how to convey all that we experience here in this country. So, in an attempt to ease into it, so to speak, I will first tell you about what we have been doing for the past month.

For all of December and January, the girls have been out of school for their second “summer” vacation. (Of course, they do not call it that here. The school year runs from February to the end of November.)

During this time, we were fortunate to have many family members come to visit. In addition to showing them our home in Estelí, we traveled around the country to some of the more “touristy” areas. It was great to share our experiences with family and it was especially great for the girls to see grandparents who dote on them like no one else does. The pictures (above) help to capture some of the adventures we experienced during our “vacation time”.

All of our language abilities have improved. The girls are speaking in complete sen


tences and communicating quite capably with friends, teachers and neighbors. As their mother, this thrills me to pieces! It was a great feeling to be able to let the girls walk around the town with my mom and sister (who don’t speak Spanish), knowing the girls were fully capable of managing whatever language skills were necessary as they shopped, ordered food, etc, without me. In fact, Devyn later recounted that at one point in their amblings they needed to order something from a market vendor. My mom picked up Devyn, who is perhaps only 3.5 feet tall, and placed her at the level of the ordering counter so she could tell the woman (in Spanish) on the other side what they wanted to order. Devyn, in turn, translated for my mom how much money she needed to give the woman. Devyn is 5!

January was also an interesting month because Michael was co-teaching (with Margaret Dick) a travel class (“Nicaragua and El Salvador: Religion and Politics in Conflict”) for St. Mary’s College of California, and thus was away from the girls and me for the month. The trip (15 days in Nicaragua and 10 days in El Salvador) was intense, and he felt that the class was quite successful. I believe there are 15 more “conscientized” (a la Paulo Freie) college students in the world.

So, with Michael busy elsewhere, the girls and I held down the fort and had a few adventures of our own. We traveled to the southern Pacific Coast—to San Juan del Sur—and then later in the month, to the mountains of Matagalpa. I enjoyed the extra challenge of “flying solo” in a foreign land, and the girls seemed to realize that they only had one parent for the month; if they “used” me all up (with too much crazy misbehaving), they would have NO backup. I’m happy to say that they rose to the behavioral challenge. In other words, they went to bed when I asked, and kept the whining to a minimum.

The musings in my head continue. Some people might call them rants. I’ll let you decide. It would be difficult for me to explain fully all the things our experiences here in Nicaragua have inspired me to think about, so I will just try to briefly mention a few—in hopes that some day when we return (and if you are interested in conversing more about any of these topics, say over coffee or a glass of wine), we can use the following as a jumping off point. So here goes . . .

More on poverty:

As I’ve noted before, this is not the first time I have experienced abject poverty. Yet this is probably the longest time I have had to digest it. Thus, I have come to this conclusion: It seems to me that the poor have no problem identifying who they are. They know they are poor. They know the world that moves about them does not, for the most part, include them. The process of buying, selling, and living—beyond just sustaining life—is not something they have the opportunity to participate in. The rich, on the other hand, always seem to be denying that they are, indeed, RICH. Ok, I am confessing. I have been one of the “rich” who has been in denial. In the States, it is easy for me to analyze our finances, budget for our expenses, drive a used car, live in a high crime neighborhood, etc., and thus conclude that I am not among the “rich”. But I must now face the fact that this is just not true. The reality is staggering: 1.6 billion people in the world live on less than $1.00 per day. I have observed many of these people as I have had the privilege to travel to poverty-stricken parts of the world (a major indication that I am rich!) and now, due to our prolonged stay here in Nicaragua, I now know some of them personally. This profound realization—that less than half of our possessions and income would rank us among the richest people in the world—alters my perspective about money and “needs” entirely. It changes my feelings about giving money away, how much space I need to occupy, and even how I feel about being robbed. (Our car was stolen from the driveway back home in January, providing us a fairly concrete opportunity to reflect on the actual value of our possessions. Conclusion: How lucky we are to have a car to lose! [The undamaged car was subsequently recovered by some of Richmond’s finest.]).

I suppose a full explanation of the changes that have taken place in our perspectives would be overly lengthy for this forum. In short, I am happy with the changes, even if they don’t make my life any less conflicted.

Question: “Mom, why won’t you buy us apples in Nicaragua?”

My quick answer to the girls when they ask me this question is, “For the same reason I won’t buy pineapples or bananas in the United States.” Nevertheless, I realize that this is not really an answer to their question. The longer answer that I give them, which usually causes them to lose interest before I am finished, is: “I don’t buy apples here because I don’t want to support an industry that wastefully uses up both our human and environmental resources.”

In order to have apples in Nicaragua (replete with “Grown in Washington” [USA] stickers on them), they have to be imported. Such importation requires significant energy, both human and environmental. At a time when thousands of people have died and others continue to suffer in order to maintain our reliance on oil, I do not want to support, even in a minor way, unnecessary usage of this dwindling resource. Not to mention my concerns regarding what the apple pickers may or may not have been paid for their labors.

But that is not the only reason I won’t buy apples. I won’t buy apples because in my opinion they represent humans’ tendency toward greed. (A little ironic if you think about the significance of the apple in the story of Adam and Eve.)

We are in the tropics, and due to this highly conducive climate for growing just about everything, we are privy to an amazing myriad of delectable fruits and vegetables. Just about everything—EXCEPT apples. Thus they are imported, using up valuable resources in the process, just so we can have something we really don’t need. Moreover, the quality of the apples Nicaragua imports pales in comparison to the fruits and veggies that do grow here, sometimes just yards away from one’s door.

This dynamic seems to me a classic example of humans’ persistent desire to want what we don’t have and to want even MORE in the presence of plenty. I am not picking on my new Nicaraguan neighbors here. I could rant in the same way about any number of foods that are sold in the United States. I also don’t mean to convey I am above wanting what I cannot have. I, too, gravitate toward selfishness and greed. Still, “the apples” here in Nicaragua force my eyes to open. They challenge me to see all the other areas in my life where I can choose to support or not to support industries, governments, establishments, doctrines, etc., that continue to cater to my tendency toward greed AND take advantage of our planet and its people. So, I won’t buy apples here in Nicaragua, or bananas in the United States (unless they are fair trade), for that matter. Not because I think my boycott is really going to make a difference to the system at large, but because of the difference it makes in ME: because “the apples” force me to grapple with even larger issues of the world and how I live in it.

Ok. So do you think I am musing or ranting? Maybe both. There are many more topics swimming around in my head, but I should probably pace myself. ;-) It is sort of interesting how this blog writing is working out for me. I will think about something over and over again, and not really know how to best articulate it, and then comes a day when I am compelled to write it out. I have never been much of a writer (though I have always kept a personal journal), so sharing these thoughts with the masses gives me a feeling of solidarity; yet, at the same time, I have a sense of fear and trepidation about how the words might fall on their readers. I hope that as you read this you hear my desire to possess a humble voice. These are the things I think about, struggle with, and share with you in a spirit of hope, as together we strive to live our lives with integrity.

chao,
-Kelli

Feliz Navidad!

This is what Christmas pointsettias were really meant to look like! They're TREES here!


The owner of our house had a plastic tree and we had a good time decorating it.


Overlooking the beautiful lagoon at Masaya, with the Masaya volcano in the background.


Here's Devyn channeling Robert DeNiro's line, "I'm watching you!" (Don't worry, we haven't shown her any DeNiro movies.)


Here are the girls making friends on the beach at Montelimar.



Wild kids, running in the wild. This is sugar cane near The Tisey reservoir near our home.


Graduation for the kids. The school year runs from February to the end of November. They did traditional dances and songs. The school even honored me with a bouquet of tropical flowers for my volunteer work.






Merry Christmas all!!

I can’t believe it’s Christmas already. (Could whoever is spinning the wheel slow it down a little please?) Maybe Christmas has snuck up on me because Thanksgiving was just a blip. The girls and I celebrated with a piece of apple pie (a rare find here) and a discussion of what things about our time here we are thankful for. (Michael was on his way back from a trip to the States.) Maybe Christmas seems to have snuck up on me because the context we are in is so different from the States. For starters, it is still 75-80 degrees outside, and we continue to enjoy the many varieties of tropical fruits (e.g., watermelon, cantaloupe, pineapple—ok sorry! That’s rubbing it in a little for all you folk weathering the cold, and eating leeks). The Christmas music is in Spanish (mostly). Because people are in preparation for their special meal we are seeing a lot more live animals in the streets and market. Just yesterday, Jordan and I watched as three men tried to herd a very stubborn and angry 300-pound pig into the back of a pickup truck, with no success. So this chancho just continued to hang out in the middle of the road, while the 3 guys tried to come up with plan B. Oh! how I wish I had had my camera with me. There are also lots of live chickens, with their legs tied, laying on their sides and waiting for purchase. The girls and I are bleeding hearts, so we feel a little sad knowing they are about to “give their all” for this year’s celebration. To cope, and to add a bit of gallows humor to our sympathy, we try to come up with phrases the chickens might be saying to each other while they “wait”. For example, “Oh girls, this can’t be good!”; “We have been waiting for that bus for hours!”; “AHHH! Soooo nice to finally get off my feet.”; “Helen, have you done something different with your crop?” Anyway, I know it’s silly, but for us city/suburb folk who are not accustomed to seeing our food alive and alert before we purchase it, a bit of comedy helps take the edge off.

Another difference about the Christmas season in comparison to the States is how much less consumerism we experience. A few stores have decorations up and are touting sales and bargains, but it’s not unavoidably IN YOUR FACE like it is in United States of America.

Firecrackers are another big difference. Setting off firecrackers in the streets way into the night is a big part of this culture. Noise pollution??? What’s noise pollution?! I am amazed, but we have learned to sleep through an incredible amount of noise. Earplugs also help. ;-)

Nevertheless, despite all these differences, many things are still the same. People are hustling and bustling in anticipation of the BIG DAY. People are shopping, baking, wrapping and looking forward to a big fiesta with their family and friends.

I am sure all of you have a little hustling and bustling to do of your own, so I am going to cut it short and just post a few of my favorite pictures of things that have occurred since my last blog. ENJOY!

And again, FELIZ NAVIDAD Y PROSPERO AÑO NUEVO!!

-Kelli

More Pictures!!

“Indian day” at school. Not entirely politically correct, but fun.











The tooth fairy found us. Jordan blogged about it (see the previous post below).



This waterfall is just outside Estelí near the hamlet of Estanzuela – a day’s hike away. The whole area is truly breathtakingly beautiful.







Hiking back toward Estelí from Estanzuela.

The tooth fairy, the language, and other musings . . .

Making friends in the neighborhood



This is one of the suburbs of Esteli. – about a 10 min walk from our house



Does the Tooth Fairy know we are in Nicaragua????
(by Jordan Barram)

I sure hope so...

Will she be Nicaraguan or will she have to travel all the way from the U.S.

Does Nicaragua have a Tooth Fairy?

So last night I lost a tooth. It had been wiggling for quite awhile. So when it came out mommy put it in a safe place and we are going to wait till tomorrow to put it under my pillow. But these are the questions I have been wondering about since the tooth came out.

I made an envelope out of paper and wrote a note for the tooth fairy. It said, “Dear tooth fairy, I know this is in Nicaragua but I don’t know what would be eseyest to bring, cordobas or amarican money so you can bring whatever you whant.”

In the morning, really early, I looked under my pillow and found my tooth was gone and in its place was 50 cordobas. It was wrapped in sparkly gold ribbon. I looked for a note from the Tooth Fairy, she had written on my envelope, “te encontré”. I asked Dad what it said and he told me she had written, “I found you” in Spanish. So I guess there is a Nicaraguan Tooth Fairy. Dad said, “she has a bigger budget than he thought.”

I don’t know what I want to spend my money on yet, so I think I will just keep saving it.

So that’s my story about loosing a tooth in Nicaragua. Now my sister Devyn really wants to loose one too.
Adios,
Mikayla (pronounced, Mee-Kai-ay-la) A.K.A. Jordan



Wow!!! How time flies!!! I cannot believe it is November already. The fact that it seems to have gone by so fast must be an indication that we have more or less adjusted to life here. Everything does not require quite so much effort. We know where to find the things we need (food, towels, pens, etc.), have made the switch in our minds to the currency, are more accustomed to seeing herds of cattle and/or horses in the road, are in the habit of putting our toilet paper in the garbage can, and we’re prepared when the lights go out and the water ceases to flow. We have developed a better capacity to sleep through all the noise, are used to walking everywhere, and are more adept at avoiding the huge potholes in the sidewalk. Even communicating is done with more ease. Indeed, life has taken on some semblance of “normality,” despite the fact that things are still very different from the States.

The girls continue to do well! Their language abilities have skyrocketed. (Oh, to have a young mind all over again!) They are both speaking Spanish in short sentences -- to us and with their Spanish-speaking friends. It has been fascinating to observe their language development over time. At first, they were in what is often referred to as “the silent period,” when all they did was listen and watch, stay attuned to the context, and try to figure out what people were saying to them. It took about 2 months and then they started regurgitating, little by little, what they had been hearing. With Devyn, it would only come out when she was in some form of imaginary play. She would be in her room with a couple toys pretending to have them communicate with each other in Spanish. Michael and I would just look at each other with wide eyes at the breadth of her vocabulary as we eavesdropped on her pretend conversation.

The girls have also made friends with the neighbor girl across the street. This enables them to practice speaking more, as it is much easier to do so one-on-one than in a big group at school. It also helps that Elayne (Elaine), the neighbor friend, is very patient and even corrects them and tells them how to say things more correctly. She has even corrected Michael’s pronunciation on occasion, much to his chagrin. ;-)

Watching and listening to the girls’ language process has also been encouraging to me in my own attempts at mastering the language (I use the term “mastery” here very loosely). We seem to stumble on many of the same areas, and we find the same aspects of trying to make ourselves understood frustrating. Struggling along side my kids in this area has allowed me to empathize, commiserate, and bond with them in ways I may not have been able to otherwise, had I already had a really good ability to converse before coming here. I am much more able to come alongside them in this learning process and it has really enhanced our relationship in unexpected ways. For example, Jordan (Mikayla) is much better at hearing and understanding what people are saying to her than I am. (She is listening to Spanish all day at school for at least 7 hours, and thus has had tons of practice.) I, on the other hand, am better at conversing. (I have had much more schooling in the grammar.) Thus, one of the things we enjoy is shopping for groceries together. When someone rattles off something at me a mile a minute, I can look at Jordan and say, “Did you catch that? What did she say?” Jordan feeds me the info, and I can return with the appropriate response. We make a good team, and it does wonders for her ego that her mother truly NEEDS her. However, the day is not long away when she’ll no longer need ME.

When I am not concentrating on conjugating a verb or getting a pronoun in the correct location of a sentence, I muse about our experiences here. The following are just some examples of my musings on different topics.

POVERTY:

Hands down, the hardest aspect about living here is the everyday reality of extreme poverty. Everywhere we go, and in everything we do, we are constantly faced with the reality that MANY, MANY people are living “without” -- without shoes, without food, without adequate shelter, without safety. Healthcare, education, and sanitation are luxuries, not rights. It all leaves me feeling a great deal of cognitive dissonance about my faith, my country, the ways I spend money, my occupational choices, how I spend my time, how I raise my kids, etc. It’s like having someone hold up a mirror that reflects how things REALLY are, instead of the way I would LIKE them to be. The reasons behind the poverty are still even harder to face. U.S. governmental actions, choices, and policies perpetuate and inflict injustices on people who have little power to change their situation and demand better. I have to deal with the reality that my ability to live with so much excess directly affects those who have very little. It’s really much more comfortable for me to buy my cheap underwear and produce without thinking about THE PERSON who sewed the underwear or grew the veggies -- and who gets paid less for the entire day than I pay for a single latte in the States. (Things are cheaper here, but they are not THAT much cheaper. Let’s just say that $2.00 per day or less doesn’t even come close to a living wage. So many people are just barely scraping by, and their situations are exacerbated severely because there is so little work here.) It is much more difficult to face the “reality” and NOT acquiesce to the larger system than to ignore the injustices of my consumptive habits. In this case, the truth doesn’t set me free; on the contrary, it makes me more conflicted.

NOT being busy:

For us, being on “sabbatical” is truly an indulgent experience. The opportunity to “drop out” of one’s life (with all of its expectations, pressures, commitments, and activities) for a time period is really quite a luxury. We are very grateful. Our lives have been streamlined to just a few things. Michael has his reading and writing, the girls and I have our schooling, and I am volunteering, but beyond that we are free of commitments. There are no piano lessons, soccer practices, or dance classes to run off to. There are no extracurricular school or church functions. We don’t even have any social engagements. At first, this translated into some boredom, but it has enabled some deeper familial relationships.
Now, let me say that all of the aforementioned activities are good and enriching in their own right. Indeed, we enjoy extracurricular, church, and social activities. But in the absence of these things, we have come to realize that we were really not taking the time to talk, listen and get to know each other as individuals and as a family. For the past few years, I have been a “stay-at-home mom.” I spend tons of time with my kids (sometimes, depending on the situation, more than I would like). ;-) If you had asked me before we left on this sabbatical, whether I knew my children, I would have said, “Yes, of course.” But that was because I did not know there was so much more I could know. Instead of driving them off to one activity or another (something undoubtedly good and enriching for them), I was not creating enough space to get to KNOW them, to hear how their days were going, and to learn how they were feeling about their experiences. (Of course, I would ask them on the way to piano practice, “How was school?” But after having nagged them 100 times to get their shoes on, to remember to bring their books, and to get in the car already [!], they were hardly in the mood for talking.) Here, we have made some friends, but really we only have each other. And the result (once we got past the initial adjustment) has been a very enriching relational experience. I feel like I am getting to know WHO my kids are, not merely what they do. I am seeing characteristics and strengths I have never noticed before. I am realizing we have paid a price for having so many activity-oriented options to choose from. I am not sure the price is worth the overall cost in terms of not having the time, space, or emotional energy to be present to my kids. The best consequence of having time and space to KNOW my kids, is that I am really enjoying them. When I am not feeling overworked and underappreciated because I am running them around or lugging them with me to some activity we think we “SHOULD” go to, I really ENJOY hanging out with them. They really are fun, interesting individuals!

It’s not just the kids we are getting to know better. Michael and I, too, are realizing how much we have tended to turn outside our relationship for support, conversation, and connection. We too, are getting to know each other again, and we’re learning anew why we chose each other as partners in life in the first place.

That’s just a smidgen of the things going on in our lives here. It is fun to share these experiences with you, and I miss being able to converse freely about our lives (without having to think about how to conjugate my tenses). Thank you to all who have responded with notes of encouragement and support. They are appreciated more than you know. Hasta tiempo proximo! (Until next time!)

Vaya pues,

-Kelli

"Being Where Our Butts Are" . . . and Breathing!

Rain in Estelí




Trip to Miraflor Nature Reserve



Angela, our housekeeper and friend



Thirst quencher in Condega



Excursion to Duquale



Buenas! I have been wanting to write another blog post for some time now. In fact, I did write one a short time ago, but decided not to send it because it was a little bit of a downer. The gist of it was that we are in the thick of the “constantly tired” phase, with everything requiring a great deal of effort. With exhaustion comes a challenging array of emotions and behaviors. It ain’t real pretty. We totally anticipated this stage of transition; however, somehow knowing it would come and actually being IN it, doesn’t take the difficulty out of the BEING IN IT. Thus, we press on, knowing that this is an important and unavoidable part of the process, and that in due time we will transition into a new (and, hopefully, easier) phase. However, that day is not today.

We continue to persist and each day things get a little easier. Another reason I haven’t written is because there are very few opportunities where the kids are asleep, I don’t have Spanish homework, and have enough brain cells left to compose a semi-articulate letter. As for today, well, I am procrastinating the homework, and we will see how it goes.

We have been living in Estelí now a little over a month. We are all doing well, still feeling very happy and privileged to be here. We have gathered all the necessary things for living: composting worms, plastic containers and duct tape. What more do ya need? Life for us is becoming routine, but is far from feeling normal. The following will outline some of the basics to give you an idea of how life is taking shape for us here in Nicaragua.

Daily life:

Angela:
I mentioned in a previous post we have a housekeeper. We hadn’t planned on hiring a housekeeper, but through a series of events (something I may write about sometime later) we decided it was the right choice. Her name is Angela and she is an enormous wealth of information as we try to assimilate into this culture. I don’t know how we would be making our way without her. Not only does she keep our house clean and cook a little for us, she is our cultural consultant, nanny, and my personal language cheerleader and friend. I try not to get too ahead of myself, but I already find myself dreading having to say good-bye to her at the end of the year. Michael and I wonder, on occasion, what she may say to her family and friends about us.

Worms:
Yes, we have worms and I don’t mean the parasitic type (thank goodness). We have red wiggler composting worms and they are very happy and multiplying rapidly. I have mentioned before that the food here is very fresh and very local and mostly (as far as I can tell) organic, and we are loving this aspect of being here. However, it was totally throwing me off balance to be tossing all the scraps of this amazing food into the garbage. Thus, I asked around, was informed of a NGO agricultural project that sells composting worms, took a trip out to the farm, rigged up a container to house them in, and voila! We are composting again and my equilibrium has been restored. :-) In the process, I shared with my teacher and some others about what I was up to, and they are interested in learning more about it, so maybe they can compost in their homes too. Who knows, maybe I can start a trend, and this may evolve into something. I’ll keep you posted.

School:
I have mentioned the girls are in school all day and that it is all in Spanish. Thus, they are indeed picking up the language. To my amazement, they understand most of what is being said to them. However, they are yet to be able speak it themselves beyond individual vocabulary words. Jordan (Mikayla) will come home with stories: “he said this, and then she said that” and “then she was mad about this . . .” I am thinking, “how do you know what they are saying?” Somehow she knows . . .

I, too, am at the girls’ school. I volunteer teaching English 3 times a week. The girls like having me there and it is great language practice for me. Although the content of my lessons consists mostly of simple English vocabulary taught through silly songs and games, (“hokey pokey”; “head and shoulders, knees and toes”; “Simon says,” and the like) I have to explain the game or song in Spanish so they know what I am asking of them. Its great practice for me and a little less intimidating than when I am trying to talk to adults.

Being at the girls’ school affords me the opportunity to see what goes on there. This is a good thing, in general; however, it also gives me cause for regular panic attacks. To say that they are more lax about safety issues would be an understatement. In fact, I am quite sure if OSHA from the States paid a visit, they would shut the place down. There is no amount of Yoga breathing that can help me take it all in without wanting to scream. Instead, I focus on breathing and save my ranting for when we are home. Let me give you a few examples of what I mean. There is a rusted chunk of metal hanging off the wall near the sand box (that is more dirt than sand). Part of the swing set is broken, and it sits on a potholed concrete slab. There is a rain catch gutter right next to the walkway (just begging for someone to step in and turn their ankle or, worse, break a leg). We occasionally find pieces of broken glass lying around on the ground where the kids play. They let them climb the trees during “patio” (recess). The “patio” area floods when it rains and remains flooded with large puddles for a few days (a potential mosquito breeding ground). The students help themselves to the same (unfiltered) bottle of water. The other day, the kids were playing with a dead bird! AY!! They took a field trip to a candle-making factory in the back of a pickup truck! (And NO, they did not have me sign a permission slip beforehand. I didn’t even know about it until after they had returned.) I think you are getting the idea. I just have to breathe deeply and let it go. I constantly remind the girls to watch where their feet are. They take their own water (but the other kids help themselves to it). I tell them to wash their hands before they eat (if they actually do it, I would be amazed), and I tell Jordan not to climb TOO high in the trees. Again, I just try to brrrreeeaaatttthhhheee! I do some intercessory praying too. :-)!!!


When I am not at the girls school I am attending my own courses in Spanish at a nearby language school. I receive about 10 hours a week of one-on-one conversation and grammar. I study at home as well. I really enjoy it, but it is hard work.

I am also trading English lessons for Spanish lessons with one of the teachers I met in language school. Knowing how to speak English is a sought-after commodity here and, at this point, it is the only thing I have to offer until I get better at speaking Spanish. Thus, despite the fact that I am the last person who should be teaching anybody English—here I am.

Weather:
We are in the rainy season here, but that does not mean we are cold. In fact, just the opposite. It is very tropical and humid. Every afternoon, there is a torrential downpour, and you just hope you are not walking home from the market when it hits. The mountains are greener than green. The vast amount of unfettered rainforest is an inspiration for our environmental conservation efforts and causes. It would be sad to see all this land become stripped bare so that Americans could have more cheap produce or meat. Unfortunately, this seems to be the direction we are headed.

Travel and Fun:
Despite all the ways being here is challenging, we are having the time of our lives. We would not trade this experience for anything. The best way to let you know how great it is being here is to list some of our favorite things.
* Weekend day trips to Condega, Ducuale, (both nearby towns), and Miraflor (a nature reserve area)
* Popcicles (pronounced, pope-see-cles) They are made with milk, fresh coconut, and sugar YUM!! and cost only $.10
* Cheap, delicious, cold beer
* Food venders come to the house. We do a lot of our shopping just outside our front door.
* Salvadoran fast food. The neighbors are from El Salvador and set up a pupusa kitchen in front of their house.
* Playing cards as a family. Seeing Devyn behind a hand of cards is the cutest.
* Dancing in our living room to our favorite artists (in English) till we are dripping wet. A terrific release and exercise workout.
* All the global soccer in the world is on TV and the best pro team in Nicaragua is here in town.
* Pan dulce (sweet bread), again, delivered to our front door
* We don’t have to clean our own house. (Oh, what a rude awakening returning will be!) ;-)
* Tons of family time (sometimes too much, but mostly it’s a good thing)
* Making new friends
* Constructing a whole sentence in Spanish and being understood (This one is mine, in particular. My language victories are small. I have to celebrate the small steps)
* Michael is getting to do the reading and studying he has always wanted, and is having a ball.
* We are out of our normal “rat race”. There is no flying around to soccer practice, dance class, school events, church activities, business meetings, committee meetings, and the like.

We have tons of thoughts, reflections, and opinions about socio-political, religious, and economic issues relevant to the reality in which Nicaragua finds itself, but given that this is a “family-oriented” publication, we’ll leave that to your imagination. (I’d be happy to email you directly if you’d like to talk politics!) :-)

Well, this is already more than anyone wants to read in one sitting. I will sign off with a short list of some of the things we have learned in our short month and a half.

THINGS WE HAVE LEARNED:

* When the woman at the market gives you a slight smile and slow head nod if you ask her whether those beautiful peppers in her basket are hot, take her word for it.
* Fill up a bucket of water when you have water, so you can flush the toilet when you don’t.
* If you are not really sure what someone has said to you, don’t say “si” (yes)—or you may be sorry.
* DON’T ever let Devyn drink a whole pint-sized glass of pineapple juice in one sitting EVER again.
* When leaving the shower, make sure your feet are dry before you walk across the slippery tile floor. AND, while taking a shower, do not touch the showerhead that is electrically wired (to flash heat the water). (Water does not conduct electricity, but metal, indeed, DOES!) ;-)
* When standing on the sidewalk, watch for ants. The ants here bite. It must be quite a hilarious sight for the locals to watch 4 tow-headed gringos jumping up an down, yelling and screaming their heads off while slapping at their legs.
* The mosquitoes here prefer white meat.


Until next time, vaya pues!
-Kelli