To my beloved friends and family,
Brace yourselves, this is a long one. (TWHS)
I apologize for the tardiness of this installment, and I am presumptuous enough to presume that you are all waiting on pins and needles awaiting the explanation. PC organized a practicum week in which our entire group went to either Chinandega or Corinto to work with established volunteers in those areas to get a better feel for what life is going to be like as a volunteer, receive advice, and get hands-on training. I was sent to Corinto, which is a port-town in the northwest. It is extremely colorful and has very unique architecture that gives it an almost Disneyland feel to parts of it. The fountain in the central plaza has a live 7 foot crocodile and a dozen turtles living in it. It’s pretty bizarre. As for training, it was super helpful. First we gave an HIV charla to a classroom of about 40 kids from 12-14. We included some games in the lesson plan that they really enjoyed to keep their interest. They go crazy for hot potato where someone has to answer a question if it lands on them. And that’s like the least fun game. They had received talks on HIV before and were fairly aware of the basics, but at the end we had everyone write down and turn in a question for me to answer to the class. This was, by far, the most rewarding part. When you give a charla, you know most are listening, but it’s a forced listen and you never get that feeling that your audience is waiting with bated breath for the fourth and final bodily fluid that could potentially transmit HIV. But when I was answering those questions they had written down, I acquainted myself with omnipotence. They really wanted to know the answers to the questions that you just can’t ask most people in Nicaragua. For example, during the charla I mentioned that oral sex can transmit HIV, but at the end I received the question, “What is oral sex?” quite a few times. Because they could ask questions about necessary concepts and receive information that they might otherwise never have gotten, I definitely walked away feeling like it was the most important and rewarding part of the talk. That’s actually a perfect example of how taboo sex is in Latin American culture. But the fact that we’re forcing the subject on them will definitely increase awareness, and hopefully communication about healthy sex practices as well. We also gave a charla at the centro de salud there, as well as the naval base. The naval base was a blast because were given a bit more liberty with the charla to make it more entertaining. We played some games that had nothing to do with the theme, but were a blast nonetheless; just to make it more fun. In one we gave them all a word we had cut out of a magazine and they had to say, “What I have between my legs is “, and read their word. Pick the right words, and it’s hilarious. We also did one where everyone gets in a circle, puts a piece of tape anywhere on the body of the person to their left, and has to pull the piece of tape off the person to their right using only their teeth. Watching grown men in military outfits do it is priceless. We also did a condom demonstration on a wooden dildo, including all the steps on how to correctly apply a condom. I think they listened, were interested, and had a good time. Then we went to a beautiful beach with water at the perfect temperature, played soccer and watched the sunset. It was torture. Finally, we saw a billiards tournament the volunteers had organized in which they gave a charla between each round. This seemed a little less effective because everyone was young, rowdy, and very focused on the games, but you never know if the quiet guys in the back came away with something that could change their lives.
So that was two weeks ago. The week before that I traveled to Masaya, the capital of the state I’m in. We went as a part of class “to practice bartering”. It is a huge, colorful market with rows and rows and rows of covered shops. You can buy all the typical little trinkets you find all over Latin America, but they also have a lot of stuff I haven’t seen anywhere else. I’m thinking about buys a basketball jersey that just says Nicaragua across the front. It’s tight. Tight like cool, not tight fitting.
I have also started attending free yoga classes that a TEFL volunteer that lives here in Masatepe gives two days a week. I go after playing soccer, which is tiring, but I figure I need it in my feeble attempt to combat the ungodly amounts of oil and sugar I consume daily. And speaking of soccer, I still play most nights on the cement basketball court til dark, but I also joined an outdoor league. My neighbor’s boyfriend played for a team and invited me to play, once again before ever having seen me play. There are two fields that they use, and neither is of very high quality. The first one we played on is horrendous. It was mostly unever, hard dirt, and one of the goals has solid, jagged rock right in front of it. Playing on that field makes a man out of you. The other field is Astroturf in comparison, but still not fantastic. Furthermore, our team is very young and not exactly Barcelona. We’ve lost all three games we’ve played, but showed immense improvement each game, and narrowly lost to last season’s champions in our last one. And despite putting sun block on before all the games, I always get burned.
But probably the most exciting/interesting/illuminating aspect of joining this soccer team is the number of facets of Nicaraguan culture it so clearly demonstrates. And I haven’t mentioned the culture yet, so this is the perfect segway.
It all began with the team meeting organized at 5pm on the Saturday night before our first game for 7:30pm that same night. It was held in the club director’s garage, which he had converted into a small church. Nica Cultural Difference Presented by the Soccer Meeting #1: Nicaraguans do not stress punctuality. It’s called Nica Time. Rarely does anything start when it is scheduled to because no one wants to worry themselves with time. It kinda makes sense, if everyone’s late, no one’s late. Plus, unnecessary stress is just that, unnecessary. No one wears watches unless they are going out (decoration). But I, being the punctual person that I am, showed up at 7:30, and waited 45 minutes for the meeting to start. NCDPSM #2: Religion permeates most sectors of Nicaraguan life. To begin the meeting, the director gave a straight up sermon. Soccer was barely even referenced, and I had to wonder if I was at the right place. Especially entertaining for me as a science major was the fact that evolution was denounced because the earth was created 6000 years ago. I must admit, however, I found the sermon extremely interesting, and would actually have enjoyed it had I not been so concerned with the ending time because I still had to eat dinner. He also mentioned that alcohol used to be a problem with the team and got general agreement, but through perseverance and dedication to God, they had largely overcome that. That also might explain why the meeting was held on a Saturday night. But I guess I should have guessed the meeting would contain religious overtones when I showed up at a house/church. NCDPSM #3: They are obsessed with national heroes and famous Nicaraguans. There isn’t an excessive amount, but the most famous is the poet Ruben Darío, who is known throughout the Spanish-speaking world and the Prince of the Spanish language. In the sermon he only quoted two people: God, and Ruben Darío. Granted he is one of the most famous poets in the world and a source of immense national pride, it struck me as a little humorous.
So that was the meeting. But there are a couple other things I wanted to mention about the team and Nicaraguan culture. Nicaraguans, and I’m confident this is consistent throughout Latin America, don’t like to admit when they don’t know something or understand. If you ask for directions to a place that someone’s never heard of or not sure of the exact location, rather than say that, they give you directions to where they think it might be. Sometimes you end up walking in circles because the three people you asked weren’t sure where it was. And it makes it even more difficult to get around because there are no street names or numbers on buildings. All directions are given from a well know place relatively close to the target destination, like a church. But going back to the understanding thing, it’s also a very funny experience when you try to ask a question of someone with your accented and grammatically incorrect Spanish, and rather than answer, they just nod ever so slightly and look away. If you were waiting for the answer to a yes or no question, it can lead to some misunderstandings, but if it was an open-ended question, it’s just confusing. Fortunately Nicaraguans have a nose-scrunch that means, “I don’t understand”, without actually having to say, “I don’t understand.” Another interesting mannerism is the lip-point. Instead of pointing with the hands, they point in the direction they’re talking about with both lips, sometimes while still talking, which is hilarious. I smile every time it happens. The second cultural aspect I wanted to mention is generosity. Everyone here is extremely generous. Most people are pretty inquisitive when they see a chele, (I don’t remember if I’ve already said what a chele is, but it’s a white person), so talking to people on the bus is really easy for me. On two separate occasions I struck up a conversation with an older woman and she gave me food. Once we were chatting about music that we like, she asked me randomly if I’d ever tried a certain type of Nicaraguan bread, I hadn’t, so she pulled out a bag of bread and gave me some. The other time we were talking, and out of nowhere and for no reason she gave me two mandarin oranges from her bag. And no, I didn’t mention being hungry or demand payment for the conversation. But it doesn’t stop with women. If you’re out with friends and one owns a taxi, he’ll give you a free ride even if it means passing up some business and walking wouldn’t be hard at all. Or if you haven’t tried some street food, he’ll buy it for you before even asking if you have any money on you. A man associated with my soccer team gave me socks and shin gaurds to play because I didn’t have any. People have invited me into their houses off the street to sit and talk. I’m sure it has a bit to do with curiosity, but they also want me to feel welcome and comfortable in their country. But the curiosity also contributes to my local fame. It seems like everyone in my neighborhood knows my name. Walking down the street, little kids yell my name, old men nod their heads, women say good morning, and I’ve never met half of them. Not to mention, when I joined La Ronda, my soccer team, EVERYONE knew about it instantly and would ask me if I was really going to play on the team. I still have guys I’ve never met from other teams yell my name, come up and chat with me about how we’re playing each other this weekend. After the games everyone asks me how we did and if I scored. I seriously feel famous. It’s the last thing my ego needs, but, oh!, how sweet it is. J.R. Tolkien and James Taylor reference in the last line. Cuz I luv ya.
I love and miss you all,
Nick
