Mini America

I had some free time over the holidays so I thought "Why not got to Costa Rica for a few days?". Might as well, since I'm in the neighbourhood. A quick Google search of "Costa Rica" and "surfing" and Tamarindo came up as the place to go.Driving directly from Managua would take about 4 hours, but with a chaotic border crossing (getting there took 3.5 hours) and having to switch to a local bus in Liberia, my journey took me about 10 hours. As soon as I arrived in Tamarindo I felt like I was transplanted into another world. The town was so developed. It reminded me of a more tropical Florida. A new condo building is being built in the middle of town, and it was the tallest building I'd seen in 4 months.It was probably how Crocodile Dundee felt when he left the outback and landed in New York City (that may be a bit of an exaggeration, but it was a taste for the culture shock I'll feel when I get home).
The place was overrun by tourists and real estate offices trying to sell land to foreigners. In the rush to develop this once "sleepy" beach town, they missed something. Where was the authenticity? Reading a magazine geared at foreigners living in Costa Rica, the sense of entitlement and 'snobbishness' expressed by 'some' foreigners left a bad taste in my mouth.
But there are always two sides to every argument. These tourists are bringing in a lot of money, jobs and opportunities (and paved roads) for Costa Ricans. Part of me can't really blame people for wanting to transplant the luxuries and comforts from a more developed country. And if there was a Starbucks in Tamarindo, I would have been right there.So the dilemma continues.

(Not) Home for the Holidays

Five months from September is February. In between those months comes Christmas. I knew before leaving Canada that spending my first Christmas away from home was a big possibility. Coming home for the holidays was always an option, but with only one month left of my internship, I figured I might as well stay here and stick it out.
Once I made my decision, I tried not to dwell on it or think about it too much. It was pretty easy to do. With the weather over the past 2 months a constant 30 and sunny, it feels like living in a perpetual August.

I did decorate the palm tree at the house to acknowledge the holiday.
But still Christmas kept slipping my mind. Christmas didn't seem to be as in your face as it is back home. People were still working and it was business as usual at the house. I noticed that since most people are just trying to get by throughout the year, buying gifts for other people wasn't that much of a priority. Or maybe that was just my perspective.
Presents were piled under the Christmas palm tree but not until Christmas Eve (and I think the family just did it for the photo op).

So to answer everyone's question of what Christmas was like in Nicaragua, I'd say it didn't seem like that big of a deal. Maybe it was the lack of snow and not being around family and friends but this Christmas seemed to come and go with less of a flourish.

Oh No!

A quick update - I am without words for this one.
Remember, dedicated blog readers, my blog post from September 28th? There was this rusted out truck at the corner, near where I live. I relied on it as my landmark for getting home. Remember when I said it didn't look like it was going anywhere fast anytime soon? Well, it disappeared! And apparantely it DROVE to Guatemala....

Before....................................................................After

"Who causes so much happiness? Mary's Conception!"

On December 7th Nicaraguans filed into the streets to celebrate the immaculate conception of the Virgin Mary. Also known as La Griteria. I had heard a lot about this day, and didn't really know what to expect. I thought it was going to be much like Hallowe'en, so I brought home a few bags of candies. Turns out, I was a little off.
Like Hallowe'en, families go out in the street and receive candies and gifts from their neighbours. Unlike Hallowe'en, only a few houses in every neighbourhood give out treats. And you have to sing a song praising the Virgin Mary before you can cash in. You can tell which house is handing out gifts because they are the ones with the Virgin Mary alter in front of their house and the long line of patient families snaking down the street.
It was quite a sight to see and I was really happy to be able to share it with the family I am living with and my visitors from home.
I could have done without the fireworks though.

Livin la vida luxe

Last week I was treated to a visit from my Mom and my Aunt Kerry. It was the first time since I've been here that I've welcomed people from home into my new little world. It was also a chance for me to be reminded about the old comforts of home. I didn't realize how much I had adjusted to developing world life until I got into a shower that had two knobs. One for hot water. I barely knew what to do with the option.
You'd think that staying at places with all the comforts of home would be easy. Having the luxury to stay in uberclean hotels, with "American" food options, airconditioning and cable TV. But I actually found it a little difficult to adjust to.

It was an interesting experience; to feel out of place in a familiar environment. I can't believe I'm actually writing this but I think I actually missed the rice and beans *gasp*!
Not to worry, it took a few days, but I did get used to rolling around in a comfy bed with a comforter and the power of a remote control.
And then *poof*, my turn as Cinderella disappeared and I'm back to showering from a paint bucket.

Cabbing it

It was recommended to me that, when homesick, instead of focusing on what I miss about Canada, I should think about what I´ll miss about Nicaragua. So, in true Audrey fashion, I made a list.
First on my list was that I will miss the the taxi experience here.
In Nicaragua, the custom is to negotiate the taxi fare before accepting the ride. I love the bartering. I will share my pride with whoever will listen to me when I can negotiate a taxi driver down from 50 to 25Cordobas (from about $2.50 to $1.50 Canadian).
There are a few tricks I´ve learned to negotiate a reasonable taxi fare. It helps that I´ve been living in this maze of a city for a few months now. Depending how touristy I look that day or depending on what part of town I´m going to - I can be often offered the ¨white tax¨. It helps when I can counteract the cabbies ¨but it´s so far¨ by saying ¨actually, no it´s not that far, it´s just down this street for a few blocks¨.
I´ve also perfected the shocked/I´m outraged look at the cabbie´s first offer, reading them correctly as to how low I can offer without them speeding off in digust and then the slow ¨fake-out¨walking away to see if they´ll admit defeat and accept my offer.
I know it´s going to be hard going back into a cab in Canada and watching the taxi meter creep up while stuck in traffic.

How to make a joke...in Spanish

Improving my Spanish. Learning about work for a non-profit. Experiencing a new culture. These are things I knew I would learn coming into this internship. But I've come to realize that I'm also learning skills I didn't anticipate, skills I didn't even know existed.
Like pretending to understand what is being said. If I stopped the conversation every time I didn't understand something, I would become a huge pain to talk to. So I pretend like I know what is going on. It involves a combination of head nods and mirroring the facial expression of the speaker. I'm working on my fake laugh, laughing along just because everyone else is even though I have no clue what is being said.
It's risky to attempt sarcasm in a foreign language, but I needed to try. I find I'm a lot more animated when I'm trying to make a joke, over exaggerate my facial expression and flail my hands around. There's also this desperate look in my face hoping that the person understands I'm trying to make a joke, and not being offensive.
Everyone seems to get my jokes, or maybe they're just laughing AT me. That's where humility comes in. I have been in situations where I look like a complete idiot more times than I would like to count. I've come to learn to embrace it. I've had to suck it up and acknowledge that I don't understand the language, and that I am confused about 75% of the time here.
Besides getting around the language barrier, there are a few other skills I'm learning from living in a developing country.
Like how to have a shower, flush the toilet and brush my teeth with no running water (it involves an organized system of buckets and old water bottles). How to get out of a car that doesn't have a functioning inside door handle (car safety standards are non-existent). How to balance on the back of a motorbike with a bag of oranges, a tripod and a smelly bag of fish. And the list goes on.....

Is it true?

When I found out I was going to be moving to Managua, I started reading about the city to try and find things that I will love about the city. I ended up getting more and more dissapointed. As a tourist destination, Managua is not at the top of the list. The phrase "if you HAVE to go" is always used when the city is mentioned. Managua's main purpose is as a stop-over between the southern beaches and the northern mountains. It's dirty, hot, polluted and busy. It borders lake Managua, but the lake is no spot for a quick dip or a leisurely stroll.
To give the city credit, it was completely destroyed by an earthquake in 1973. Only 4 buildings remained standing. There never really was a plan for rebuilding the city. The city just kind of grew out, organically, in a series of semi-circles.
Thus, there is no method to the madness that is Nicaragua's capital city.

Then I read somewhere that the song "Where the streets have no name" by U2 was actually written about Managua. Sold! I then started using this tidbit as a selling point for the city. Managua now joins the exclusive club of songs named after them. Take that Toronto!
But wait, is it actually true? I have spent way to many minutes "researching" this fact online. And it's still deemed a disputed fact (see here and here). Darn!

Elections

On Sunday November 9th, Nicaraguans headed to the polls for the mayoral elections. ("mayoral" is the literal translation, I believe "provincial" would be the best political translation, for Canadians). The lead up to these elections has been quite interesting, for a non-Nicaraguan like me. The passion that Nicaraguans have for politics and elections is amazing. At least 2 months before the actual election, there were political billboards all over the city. Houses and lampposts were painted to reflect ,the preferred political party. Frequent rallies would pop up, groups of supporters driving around the city, waving flags, honking horns and blocking traffic at any day or time of the week.

There are two main political parties in Nicaragua: the FSLN(the Sandanista party, currently the federal ruling party, their idols are Che Guevara and Sandino) and the PLN (the Liberal party, but Nicaragua's Liberals are more similar to Canada's Conservatives.
The Wednesday before the election it was announced that all offices would be closed on Friday and Saturday (most Nicaraguans work Saturdays as well). Then on Thursday, around 3 p.m. it was announced that the holidays were canceled and it would be business as usual the next day. I can't seem to understand how the government was able to relay this information on such short notice - and the fact that everyone seemed to just go along with it.

After 2 months of rallying and propaganda, a 72 hours "quiet period" was enforced. No public political activity was allowed for 2 days before the elections. The sale and consumption of alcohol was banned on Saturday and Sunday. Then the election happened. And the rallying and demonstrations resumed. In major cities, it took a few days for an official winner to be announced. And even if the winner was announced, the losing party would inevitably protest it and claim fraud. This morning in the paper there was an insert from the PLN candidate for Managua. This insert listed all the votes calculated in every polling station in Managua.

Throughout the week there have been groups of Nicaraguans gathering in various rotundas, wearing masks, and armed with air guns and rocks. My landlord didn't go to her class on Thursday night because she "didn't want to get hit in the head with a rock". It's sounding like things are starting to calm down a bit - but it's been quite a hectic week. And these aren't even the presidential elections.

I saw the new James Bond movie before you

I like movies. I enjoy going to the movies in Canada, but I find the $10 cost prohibitive at times. In Nicaragua, going to the movies has become a lovely escape. It's air-conditioned to nearly freezing temperatures and the seats are clean and comfy. And it only costs about $3.
The only catch is that Nicaraguan theatres decide to release the poorest selection of movies. Made of Honour was playing in theatres for my first 6 weeks here. Six weeks.
Then a movie called Love Wrecked opened. I had never heard of the movie and thought maybe I was out of touch on my Hollywood movies. So I looked it up. The movie was released in the U.S. in 2005. It starred Amanda Bynes and Lance Bass played the character of "cell phone Dan". I decided to save $3 and pass up that opportunity.
Then, last week, all of a sudden the new James Bond movie opens in theatres. And I realize that the movie hasn't even opened in North America yet.
How does this make any sense?
ps - as for my review - movie was o.k., too many fight scenes make me a little dizzy

The tourism dilemma

I spent this past weekend sunning and swimming at the Laguna de Apoyo. It's about an hour outside of Managua - but a little tricky to get to as you have to take 2 buses and only about 3 buses a day go down into the laguna. My first attempt at getting to the laguna cost about 4 hours and two really bad blisters. But I've since learned and the trip was more efficient this time.
The view from the lagoon is quite spectacular - clear water, tons of trees, so much greenery you can't even see the road you drove in on.
We stayed at a hostel called The Monkey Hut which was highly recommended by backpackers and tourists.
The hostel was pretty packed with people coming for the day and all 20 or so beds were booked for the weekend.
But a kayak trip along the lagoon reveals that the rest of this beautiful space is rather underdeveloped. There were a few nice hotels but they all seemed pretty empty. It is kind of eerie and sad seeing a waterfront restaurant ready to serve about 50 people..with only 2 guests.
But it's the quiet and the lack of development that is so appealing.
The obvious fear is that with more development and tourists the beauty will disappear. The sound of the howler monkeys will be drowned out by jet ski motors. And a tourist will steal your towel when you go to the bathroom. The local culture gets lost when you try to attract the "rich white people."
But then again, the tourism industry can be good for the economy. Nicaragua's economy relies a lot on agriculture, which can be a fickle friend. With unpredictable weather patterns, and the fluctuating food prices, it is common to hear of a farmer who lost his crop and income for the year. Wouldn't it be a good idea for the country to diversify and develop it's tourism industry?
So what's the solution? Is tourism really a bad thing? Is it possible to find the best of both worlds?

Si, Si, Si*

I've discovered that I have developed three ways to say "yes" in Spanish.
The first is the kind of quiet "si" with the question-sounding inflection. It's the most common one. I use it when I have no idea what was just asked and I don't want to have to ask them to repeat themselves. I can only imagine what types of things I have said yes to. Once someone told me that their friend died. At first I didn't understand what they said so I said "si."
I've been told that when I speak in Spanish all my phrases sound like questions. That's because half the time I don't know if what I'm saying is correct vocabulary or grammar. So when I say something like "I went hiking this weekend", it sounds more like "I went hiking this weekend?".

The other "si" is my confident one - when I know what is going on and I can accurately answer "yes". It's usually to a question that I have heard a lot of like "do you have change?" or "are you tired?".

Lastly, my favorite is the "si, si, si". When someone asks me something and I figure it's important enough for me to understand - I'll usually ask them to repeat, sometimes a few times. When I finally figure what's been asked, and I can truthfully answer yes, the word deserves to be repeated a few times.

"You appreciate being able to run in your own language after stumbling in another one"

*I know, there is supposed to be an accent on the "i" in "Si", but I can't figure out how to add accents on blogspot

** I couldn't figure out what photos would go along with this posting, so I decided to add photos of some of the people I've interviewed for my job.

In the family

It has been brought to my attention (by those who are not on Facebook) that I haven't shared much info. about the family I am living with here.
One of my biggest concerns before coming here was my living conditions. It was recommended that the interns live with local families, to get a true sense of what life is like in Nicaragua. I was more than skeptical. I had had an ..ummm...unfortunate experience with a home stay when I was younger. I have also been living on my own for a few years and I enjoy my own space and routine. I don't share well.
I ended up being very lucky with the family I'm living with.
The owner of the house is Graciela, a 26 year old single mother of two. Her daughters are Ginger, 11, and 8 month old Valentina. Ramona is the live-in maid who goes home once a month to visit her 3 children.
It's been quite the learning experience living with someone who is my age (actually, I'm 11 days older) and who is a mother to a pre-teen.
The family has been incredibly accomodating and generous with me. They are game for anything. Whether it's hiking a volcano with a 25 pound baby in your best sandals, or collectively complaining about the opposite gender.
Ginger is an excellent translator for my terrible accent and embarrassing grammer; Ramona is teaching me how to cook with a gas stove; and Graciela's cheeriness is infectious. And the baby is just adorable.

Playing with words

The other week, I found myself sitting in a parking lot, filled with old North American school buses (now used as city buses in Nicaragua), asking a 73 year old Nicaraguan what life was like during the Sandanista revolution - and I thought, "Is this really my job?". I don't really know how I got so lucky to be able to spend days visiting people, asking them questions and taking photos.
Then it hits me when I'm faced with the task of writing their stories. At first, I found the blank page pretty daunting and was afraid to start putting words to paper, in fear that whatever I wrote would stick. But practice makes perfect. I'm starting to get into the writing habit and am learning my own methods for writing. The ability to sit down and play with words, and create a story out of a blank page is something that I'm starting to look forward to.
So, in case anyone is wondering if I am doing any work - here are links to stories I wrote for the MEDATrust website. These were my first stories so be gentle. I hope that in five months time you will have seen plenty of improvement.

Rebuilding in the face of disaster:

New Hope in the Heart of Nicaragua

It's not easy...being clean

I've been meaning to write something about cleanliness here in Nicaragua - and now I feel like I have some perspective to write about it clearly.
One of the first things I noticed here was just how dirty everything was. I couldn't help but focus on the dirt, the bugs, the general dampness and "ickiness" I felt. Everyone told me I'd get used to and soon enough wouldn't notice the dirt. I was skeptical but I believed them. I don't know when it happened but I do find myself more comfortable of the dirty factor. I'm starting to train myself to not notice all the garbage on the street or the stray dogs using the streets as their personal bathroom. I'm getting used to seeing ants in the kitchen, to having bugs magically appear on my body and the amount of dirt that appears on my face when I wash it in the morning (this after having washed it before going to bedOne thing I noticed, that made me change my opinion on cleanliness, was seeing how much people clean here. And how thoroughly they do it too. They have definitely put my cleaning habits to shame. The other week, I watched in amazement at how the cleaning woman where I live (Ramona) cleaned out her mop. She just kept washing it - when I would have deem the mop "clean enough" way sooner. And the floors are cleaned once a day - at least. Thanks to Ramona, I actually think my house in Nicaragua is cleaner than my apartment in Toronto ever was. Now if only those pigeons/dogs/mice/rats would stop making so much noise.

Acclimatization, the adjustment phase

It’s been one month since I arrived in Managua. At the same moment it feels as if I just arrived but also that I left Canada ages ago. It’s like being stuck in some strange time warp. In the first month, it has been a fine balance between fitting into my new environment, while keeping my own identity.
There have been a few “concessions” or “adaptations that I have made.

For starters, I’ve started drinking coffee. I don’t know how it happened, but I crave a coffee now. Tea just doesn’t really do it for me. I don’t know what I’m going to do with the 200+ teabags I have.

It took a few weeks, but the watch came off. It was initially taken off for safety’s sake – I was going to the market for the first time and my host family advised me to leave the watch at home. But, except for one day last week, the watch hasn’t found it’s way back to my wrist. I’ve started getting used to “Nicaraguan time”. I'm asking “what time?” less, because I’ve learned that the only answer I will get is “later”.

I’ve also started eating chicken. Sometimes. Chicken is basically in every meal here. The word “rooster” is used synonymously with “the best” – so the animal is kind of big deal here. If I wanted to eat in Nicaragua, I would have to start eating chicken. It has been a bit tougher that I thought it would be. It’s like eating something like grapes for the first time in 13 years. An acquired taste.

I’ve had to adjust my wardrobe a bit here too. In an “after-latte high” I bought a pair of pink heels. I still haven’t really worked them in yet – but I’m slowly moving away from the gringa flip-flop and into something more Nica (meaning: non-flat and dressier).

I’m getting used to the cold water showers (by adding a bit of boiling water), the muggy heat (sometimes) and the various farm animals in the city (I think I have a pig as a neighbour). Every once in a while I do manage to sneak in some of my own guilty pleasures. It feels paradoxical to be lying in bed, in sheets that were washed by hand, listening to dogs & roosters & gheckos & random birds while at the same time watching an episode of Gossip Girl on my Ipod.

To the doctor

After 2 weeks of sniffling and attempting to find tissues in Nicaragua, I decided it was time to go see a doctor and try and see if I could somehow get rid of this cold.

A very helpful colleague at the office made an appointment for me with an ear, nose and throat specialist, Dr. Jorge Robleto. The appointment couldn't have come at a better time. Two days before the appointment I lost my voice - which is pretty frustrating when my job basically relies on being able to speak.

I think it was partially worth getting sick just for the experience of visiting a Nicaraguan doctor. First, I need to preface this by saying that Dr. Robleto worked in the private hospital. I paid about $29US for the appointment. Considering the average income for a Nicaraguan is less than $300US/month, you can appreciate how expensive a private doctor would be for a local.

The medical instruments the doctor had were basic at best. My ears, nose and throat were checked out with the use of a lamp, and a round mirror that was attached to a headband. I felt like I was living in the '40's. Not that I really know what it was like to visit a doctor in the '40's but it's what I gathered it would be like from movies. The doctor then drew me diagrams to show me basically that I have a lot of mucus in me. I was prescribed nose and mouth spray and some allergy pills, but after a few days of use, I'm questioning their effectiveness.

It's also been recommended that I rest, don't use my voice, don't drink or eat anything cold (that's tough in 30+ degree weather)or eat anything acidic like the delicious pineapple.

I hate to complain that I have nothing to do - but I'm finding resting and relaxing a bit challenging and frustrating. Especially since I don't have the comforts and distractions of home. There are so many things that I want to go out and do, new things to see and experience - but I have to wait for my cough and sniffles to go away first, or I'll just keep getting worse. I'm anxious for the day when I am fully recovered and am so busy that I'll be craving a day of doing nothing.

Working Conditions

I am not a self-starter. In my first ever job evaluation, it was a main criticism my employer had (that and that I didn’t smile enough) and it’s been something that I have been trying to work on ever since. Therefore, I tend to make bold decisions that force me into situations where I have to step up and be proactive. Taking this internship in Nicaragua was one of those bold decisions. I was informed that this job would be “self-directed” and I was excited and nervous for the challenge. Along with all the cultural changes, it has been quite an adjustment having a job where my boss is in a different country, and a different time zone. I have the freedom to decide upon my own hours, office space and deadlines. Sounds like an ideal job – but I’ve found it to be very daunting. I am grateful for my supervisors who are giving me the benefit of the doubt and have the patience while I try and figure this all out on my own. I’m trying to enjoy this process and am learning a lot about myself and my work ethic in the meantime.
While I'm trying to figure out what work schedule works best for me, I've been taking photos at the office.

Out and about in Managua

As I formulate my thoughts for my next blog entry, I thought I would post a few photos around Managua to satisfy anyone's cravings for a blog update.


The address to my home is "from the tree, in the San Judas neighbourhood, 2 blocks south and 2 blocks up". This is a photo of said tree "el ceibo".

This is the truck that I use as a marker for where I live. I don't think the truck is going anywhere anytime soon.

A lot of the streets here use these stones as paving. I've been told it's easier to fix the streets after an earthquake if they use these stones instead of pavement. But they also cause for a bumpy ride.

Ginger's cousins (though "cousin" is used loosely) outside my house. You can see my second floor room at the top left.

Something I am still getting used to seeing in Managua are the occasional horses as a means of transportation. I was the recipient of many whistles and cat calls from these guys after I busted out the pink camera to take this photo.

Another shot of horses in traffic.

Vamos a la playa

I apologize for the overuse of Spanish in my blog titles - but I can't help it. I was determined to get to the beach this past weekend and "Vamos a la playa" became my mantra. For many reasons, I needed to get out of the city. The pollution and muginess of the city was starting to get to me and I really wanted to get out and explore and see what else Nicaragua had to offer. I was fortunate in finding travelling companion in Dustin, another MEDA intern.
My only requirements were that I wanted to 1. Swim in the ocean and 2. Lay on a beach so we were recommended going to Pochomil - a small local hangout about an hour bus ride away.
When we arrived at the beach it definitely felt local and "undiscovered". Though there were restaurants lining the beach, capable of serving hundreds of people, Dustin and I pretty much had the whole beach to ourselves.

At first, the emptiness was a little disconcerting. But after a dip in the ocean, I wasn't complaining. Post-swim, it was time for lunch and a little siesta on the hammock. We shared a drink with another international couple (French and Italian) before heading back on the last schoolbus out of town. I could have lived without the long and bumpy bus ride back in the rain, but after a cold shower I felt refreshed and satisfied with a day well spent.