Dogs and Cats; Forgotten Victims of Poverty

Anyone who knows me would agree that it is an understatement to call me an “animal person.” Animal fanatic or Dog lover are more accurate terms. Therefore, one of the biggest challenges of living and working in a developing country is seeing the vast amounts of helpless, starving, and suffering dogs and cats that roam the streets. Some are strays. Some have homes but live with families who can barely afford to feed themselves let alone buy anti-flea shampoo or kibble.  Seeing animals hurt, makes me hurt. I will restrain myself from providing further details of the horrible conditions that some animals suffer here. Most days I can barely stand to witness it, myself.  

Which is why I was delighted to find out about Casa Lupita, an animal clinic that provides free sterilizations and consultations.  Every Thursday, they offer free consultations and every Friday is sterilization day.  My puppy, Risa was spayed at Casa Lupita on November 9^th for free. Free is one of the sweetest words to lay upon a Peace Corps Volunteer ears, it probably beats love. So Risa and I made the long, 6 hour bus trip down to Granada to get her spayed. I can’t begin to explain my overprotective nature I have when it comes to my baby girl, Risa, therefore, I did my research and checked this place out. I read numerous reviews and annoyingly sent its founder and manager a myriad of questions. All were positive.

Happy and healthy a few days after her surgery!

Casa Lupita and its staff treated my puppy and I wonderfully. She received anesthesia via a machine during her operation which is not standard here. Yes, that is right. Anesthesia is expensive so some veterinarians do these invasive operations without it. Poor animals. The veterinarian who did Risa’s operation was very skilled. Her incision was very small and he used dis-solvable, internal stitches therefore a cone was not necessary.  She also received a dose of antibiotics to prevent infection as well as pain medicine. She was groggy for a few days, sniffed and licked the incision a few times but quickly forgot about it. She has had no complications and is back to her playful self.

Another awesome and heartwarming part of this experience was seeing Casa Lupita’s impact on the community.  There was a line of Nicaraguans and their pets waiting before they opened their doors. Every Friday, it is like this. When I told people in Somoto that I was getting my dog sterilized, almost all were against it. It is not the custom here despite the massive overpopulation of dogs and cats.

Casa Lupita runs solely on donations through its funding USA organization Building New Hope that was founded by a former Peace Corps Volunteer. Best of all, you can donate online! Please do so, to help those who can’t help themselves, street animals. 

General Gender Observations

First and foremost, I love being a woman. Despite sexism, machismo, and the ever-ruling patriarchy, I am happy to be a woman. This does not mean that I do not acknowledge the challenges that come with having two breasts and a vagina. I have studied gender in school and continue to follow women’s political issues around the world. I know all about the horror and heartache that some women experience and the assumptions that result from merely possessing female anatomy. These challenges vary in intensity from culture to culture.

For instance, I did not expect making friends near my age in my site to be so difficult. Plenty of men want to be my friend but usually, even if married or taken, their intentions are clear. Furthermore, I know my reputation might suffer from friendships with only males in my site despite everyone in my site thinking that I am married to another male Peace Corps volunteer here. Maybe its paranoia but I cannot risk it. I have almost 2 years left and a lot of hope left to do more, to integrate more, and to learn more. It is clear that the Madonna complex is strong here and to work successfully within this culture, I submit. I do something that I tried so hard my entire life to not, I care about what others think. A lot. It matters here, especially for a woman. If my reputation slips, so will my influence.

However, it is a different story for my two male site-mates. Women and men pursue their friendships. Even when the women make their sexual intentions clear or they are surrounded by women. No one second guesses their quality of character. Their influence does not weaken hell it might even strengthen in the eyes of other men. I joke that they are called “El Gringo Divino” meaning "The Divine White Man" in English. Their male anatomy provides them with entitlements. Que Suerte! (What luck!)  

To a feminist desperately wanting equality for all, gender imbalance is obvious here. One day each week, I teach a health class at an at-risk youth center. I love it there. The kids, the energy, and the program are all energizing. From my time there, I cannot help but notice the stark difference between the boys and girls when it comes to answering my questions, participating, even reading aloud. The boys nearly knock each other over trying to answer first and sometimes even argue over who gets to read which sentence out loud. On the other hand, the girls are another story. If boys are present and I ask a girl a direct question, usually she retreats, looks down then around at her class mates before looking back at me and refusing to speak. When only in a group of girls, they are slightly more outgoing, more secure but still reluctant and shy. Sadly, I doubt the girls grow out of it. Proof of this is my experience working with both adult males and females here.  Males usually ask and answer questions, some even challenge me. Women, usually need to be encouraged or their answers to be guided.

Cutest feminist I know, Risa!

Regardless, I still prefer womanhood even in the Peace Corps. I get to talk about intimate health issues with other women easily and I get to inspire young girls to say their opinions out loud. I am an example to the young girls in my classes who shy away from answering questions in front of boys that they too have a voice. I am beyond grateful to be a representation of that and even more so to encourage it in the girls and women here. It makes all the challenges here both gender related or not totally worth it.

Homesick-ness

All apologies for not blogging for a while. I have been debating what to write about next. I know I can write about work, how my puppy was dog-napped (she’s back and safe now), or even how much fun I had while my sister and friends from home visited. But lately, my head and heart has been occupied with missing home and my family there so I’m writing about that. Before reading the following post, please keep in mind, I am not depressed (so don’t freak out, Dad) and am not going to quit Peace Corps and move home (so don’t get excited, Dad).  Enjoy my diary entry on missing Washington. If you have never been, I strongly suggest you add a trip to Western Washington to your bucket list. In my eyes, there is not a more magical or comforting place on earth.

I left my beautiful homeland, Washington state January 10, 2012. I have been away from its emerald, dove gray, and marine blue enchantments for almost 10 months now. It hurts. Physically and emotionally. Despite having lived in Colorado for 5 years and Kenya for a semester, I have never been away from my home and family this long. It sucks. I miss the rain, the mist that never leaves the air even on days it does not rain, and the water soaked, mossy earth that feels as if you’re walking upon foam but most of all I miss my family, crazy jumping labs and all. There have been brief moments where Nicaragua has reminded me of home. These moments overtake my senses and flush my eyes with tears.

For example, last week I spent a few days in the cool mountains of Selva Negra, Matagalpa. Believing that nowhere in Nicaragua can get cold, I laughed off my family’s advice to bring a sweater for both Risa and I. Upon entering Selva Negra, I was immediately reminded of home. It is this beautiful hotel nestled in the mountains and overgrown forest with plentiful tall trees so dense that at times you can’t see the horizon and moss grows everywhere. Also, it was actually cold. I shivered for the first time in 10 months while there. Here, I experienced the most intense and heart wrenching bout of homesickness.  One early morning while taking Risa for her daily walk, we stepped off the concrete path onto earth only to step upon the same water soaked, mossy earth like in Western Washington. As my feet sunk into the earth, a bittersweet bolt of nostalgia shot through my body and upon reaching my face, it filled my eyes with tears momentarily. For that second, I swear I smelled Washington; fresh rain drops upon pine and fir trees. All Washingtonians know that wonderful scent after it rains. Equally pristine and wild. No tree shaped air freshener or Yankee Candle can mimic it exactly. I couldn’t handle it and immediately stepped back onto the concrete.  It was torture, to be teased with something that felt so much like home while knowing you are nowhere near it.

On December 18^th, I will return to the unbeatable beauty of the Pacific Northwest. That is 78 days from now. In 78 days, I will inhale the fresh Washington air. In 78 days, I will smile while my feet sink into the mossy earth. Best of all, in 78 days I will embrace my father, my sister, and my adorable labs in the shadow of majestic Mount Rainier. 78 days from now, I will finally be treated for my homesick-ness.

The story of Risa… my laughter, my love!

 One of the hardest parts about leaving for Peace Corps was leaving my two adorable and silly labs behind. Knowing I would miss them terribly and that my life would not be complete without a four-legged friend, I had always planned on getting a dog in service and I even created a Peace Corps puppy fund before leaving. Last week, I went to my sitemate’s house to hang out and was surprised to find a teeny and skittish puppy hiding behind a cabinet. Immediately, I freaked out and wanted to chinear (rock like a baby) this puppy. Upon seeing my reaction to her, his family offered her to me. One look at her face while she was in my arms and I knew I couldn't say “no.” Dreams really do come true; I now have the cutest puppy in all of Central America.

Originally, I had named her Lupita because I thought it was an adorable name and did not know that giving a dog a human name is like an insult in Nicaraguan culture. Therefore, I changed her name to Risa (ree-sa) which means laughter because that is exactly what she adds to my life. Thankfully, I live with a very loving family here that have welcomed Risa with open arms. My host mother calls her "mi nieta" (my granddaughter) and my host brother calls her "mi sobrina" (my niece). I understand the full responsibility of having a dog here and plan on bringing her everywhere I can with me including the USA when I end my service in 2014.

Enjoy the photos of her cute-ness! I wish you all the happiness that my little Risa has already brought to my life here. 

Todo sobre mi MRSA/ All about my MRSA

July 2012 was a month full of firsts, I never wanted. First overnight hospital stay, first IV, first surgery, and first stitches. If we are Facebook friends, then you probably have read my status updates regarding my week long stay in the hospital to be treated for MRSA. MRSA is a type of Staph bacteria that is resistant to common antibiotics. It spreads quickly and aggressively and can be deadly if your lungs or heart get infected as well. Thankfully, my infections were caught early and no serious damage was done. As a result, please don’t worry as I am totally fine and was never near death. Also, if you get squeamish when reading, seeing, or hearing about gooey, bloody medical details, I recommend not reading any further. 

About 3 weeks ago, I was working with local kids at an at-risk youth center where I was bit by a sizeable spider after sitting down on a bench outside. At first, I did not realize that the spider had bit me. I felt a pinch upon sitting down on a slotted wooden bench, then saw a sizable, hairy brown spider the size of a half dollar. Figuring that the two events were unrelated, I joyously participated in soccer and volleyball games with the kids without washing the wound or covering it. By the late afternoon, the back of my thigh, where the spider had bit me was sore and swollen. I realized that the spider had bit me and figured it had venom so I called one of handy Peace Corps doctors who recommended that I take anti-histamine and ice it to reduce the swelling. Figuring it was no big deal, I followed suit. However, a day and half later, it was larger, redder, and more painful and walking was reduced to limping. Red flags were raised in my mind, so I called the Peace Corps doctor again who said that it must be infected and prescribed antibiotics. “Hallelujah!” I thought, problem solved... But I was very wrong about this. After 24 hours of taking the antibiotic, everything was worse. The pain, the size, the color… all had gotten stronger. Even more concerning was noticing a small bump on the side of my calf on the same leg that did not itch, was hot to touch, and red. All of these things were the initial signs of the first infection. In order to monitor the growth of the possibly second infection, I drew a circle around it before bed. Sleep that night was hardly possibly since my entire leg was in pain.

Upon waking up, I found the second infection to be bigger and beyond the circle. I called the Peace Corps doctor again and they requested that I come to Managua to have it looked at and treated. That phone call was followed by the most uncomfortable bus ride ever to Managua. I get to Managua see our Peace Corps doctor who takes samples by causing me necessary, but excruciating pain. In order to get the sample, she had to push the large, swollen wound and force liquid out to be tested. Since the abscess had not yet formed and it hurt without any touch or physical contact, having it pressed against for a few minutes flooded my eyes with tears. Thankfully, the doctor finally got enough discharge out of it for a sample then I was off to the nicest hospital in Nicaragua for an afternoon of tests and trying to track down the Infectious Disease specialist. Nothing calms your nerves like hearing you need to see the Infectious Disease specialist!  He was not available so they doubled my antibiotics and threw some pain killers into the mix. The next day was hell. The infection was in all layers of my skin so as the abscess was forming, all layers of skin were splitting open in an attempt to push the infection out of my body. This was a slow and painful process. Even with pain killers, I would have sporadic shocks of pain that were so strong, I would scream out loud and some so strong, I felt faint after. I did not get much sleep that night and the next day, I finally had an appointment with the infectious disease specialist.

The specialist’s office was covered with awards and certificates which comforted me because receiving medical treatment in Spanish and in a developing country that has standards, rules, and medical training different than your own is worrisome. “Whoa!” Exclaimed the highly esteemed specialist as I showed him the big infection on the back of my thigh. Not comforting. He promptly admitted me and called in the surgeon to schedule surgery on the 2 infected areas that night. At this point, I had a fever and felt generally ill all over from the infection. Also my zombie walk was no longer possible, as I was reduced to hopping on my left leg. 


I was prepped for surgery with a rather humiliating but hilarious experience. Since I could not walk or move much from the pain and the abscess was profusely bleeding. The nurses forbade me from moving. Therefore, when they were about to transport me to the operating room and noticed that I had my underwear still on, they reacted quickly by removing it then slapping an adult diaper on me instead! One nurse lifted me while the other strapped it two me just like you would do to a baby. Two sticky straps on each side. Sadly, no cartoons. Realizing, I had lost all dignity, I could only laugh hysterically.  

Before entering the operating room, they gave me anesthesia in my IV and knocked me out. However, I woke up in the operating room while they were prepping my leg for surgery. Upon waking up, I found myself strapped to the bed on my side with my arms strapped down in front of me, tubes coming out of my nose, heart monitors attached to my chest, and the freakiest sight was watching my heart beat on the monitor. I groggily looked up at the nurse and asked “Should I sleep?” in Spanish. The anesthesiologist promptly gave me more meds in my IV that knocked me out instantly.

According to my surgeon, the operation only took about 20 minutes to open, drain, and remove the infected flesh. Thankfully, no muscle tissue was infected but all layers of skin were so they had to remove a sizable chunk. The incision and removal behind my thigh was about 3 inches long and 3/4inch wide at one point. I have several stitches in the back of my thigh and in the side of my right calf that only required a 1 small one inch incision. Thankfully, after my operation, I spoke with my father and sister by phone which was comforting. I must admit the drugs were strong and I do not recall much from that conversation.

Immediately, they began giving me fluids, pain killers, and a MRSA killing, super strong antibiotic. The antibiotics were strong and the major side effects were heartburn and nausea. Reading was difficult because of the intense nausea but thankfully, my hospital room had a television and wifi! About 2 days after my surgery, a third infection began to grow on my opposite leg. Seeing as the bacteria was still active, they increased my antibiotics, drained the third lesion, and extended my hospital stay by one more day. After 6 days in the hospital, I was freed and released to a nice hotel to finish recovering for a week. After a week there, I was able to return to lovely Somoto that I missed dearly. 


Currently, I have stitches and still am unable to walk much in order to prevent breaking the stitches however; I am returning to Managua this Friday so the doctor can check its healing progress and possibly remove the stitches if they are ready to be removed. There is no need to worry. Other than some mild pain in my leg, I feel great and am very happy to be back in my site. The doctors, nurses, and Peace Corps medical office were all really great and treated me well. In no time I will be back to functioning fully! 

Awkward…

Throughout my five months here in Nicaragua I have encountered, caused, and been victim to plenty of awkward moments. I am still learning the Spanish language and have yet to learn the direct translation of the commonly used in the USA, English word, Awkward. Google translate and my Spanish dictionaries give me some translations but none are used by Nicas and used to mean other things here. Therefore, I and other PCVs I know have concluded that there is no direct translation for that awkward feeling that creeps up when things just are not right and you’re at a loss for words, but know that your friends will laugh when you tell them about your awkward moment or feel awkward themselves at your expense. The Nicaraguan Spanish vocabulary is in need of the word for awkward and my top 2 awkward moments prove it. Enjoy and please laugh along with me.

1.       After vomiting all night, experiencing massive stomach cramps, and watery stools, I assume I have a parasite and need to go to the laboratory to get a stool test done. I go to the lab for the test and submit my sample in the only bathroom there. The bathroom shares an entrance with the waiting room that is filled with sick people like me waiting to submit, urine tests, stool tests, or blood tests. Therefore coming out the bathroom, with a cup in a plastic bag eliminates the blood test option. Grossed out yet? Yes? Good. So right after I hand my stool sample off to the nurse, I sit down. A Nicaraguan man about my age, maybe younger is sitting beside me and he starts to hit on me. Really? You know what I just did and I know you’re in to get tested for something gross too. And you’re trying to get a date!?! Really?! Awkward!  To make this awkward moment even more special is the fact that he was wearing a white t-shirt with his own photo (stoic facial expression and all) printed on it. He looked better in the photo.
 
2.       First month of training. Spanish class in my homestay families living room and we are learning medical terms and slang terms for body parts in Spanish because we are health workers of course. In training, classes were in 100% Spanish also. Our Profe, says the phrase “La barba de Fidel.” Knowing that “barba” means beard, and knowing who Fidel Castro is, I assumed that she was talking about Fidel Castro’s hideous beard. So I innocently ask, “I don’t understand how men eat with those in way!?! How?” Immediately, my follow trainees bust our laughing and my profe’s face turns bright red. I sat there dumbfounded until my friend Alex was able to stop laughing hard enough to say “That is slang for, a woman’s big bush!” Realizing the horrible mistake I’ve made in Spanish, I bust out laughing until I cry while the feeling of awkwardness and mortification take over.
 
Hope you got a laugh out of these! 

Flu, hopefully not Dengue ramblings

Maybe it’s the fever, the flu medicine, or my cynical, over-analytical nature but I can’t help but question my purpose and impact here. After all, I am a foreigner coming into another sovereign nation with a completely separate culture and different language brought here on the promise that I can teach something new. On paper, I look qualified and promising having a Bachelor’s in International Studies, undergraduate minor in Spanish, Graduate Certificate in Global Health, and Master’s degree in International Development. And I do believe, that my time spent studying the world’s problems, no matter how depressing it was (seriously, I had a slideshow of puppy pictures I’d go to during some of my research) that I am prepared on an academic level to do this work. But these degrees and majority of classes were earned in a western institution with western values and mostly western viewpoints. I never found any of the classes within my major boring and excelled more in them because of that. I am still what I was before, an outsider looking in. Except then, I was an outsider among other outsiders. Now, I am trying my best to apply learned knowledge to help others, to improve the health of the community in which I have been placed Somoto, Nicaragua. Thankfully, Peace Corps Nicaragua’s health sector is paired with the Nicaraguan Ministry of Health so I am working alongside a Nicaraguan counterpart and out of the city’s health center. Therefore, I’m not some rogue America going at this alone. At this point I am still learning more than I am teaching. I know this is essential to my success here which I am also unsure how to measure that and I do have until April 2014 (gulp) to accomplish something impactful and hopefully sustainable.

One of my worries comes from my love I have for another part of the world. I must confess, whenever up to my choice, I chose African countries and African specific issues to focus on in school. Hell, I even chose to go to Kenya to study abroad when most students were going to Australia and Spain. With all its challenges, including the times where I felt frozen stiff with shock at some of the extreme poverty I saw, I loved Kenya and my time there with every fiber of my body and want to return more than anything. It is the absolute truth when I say that I learned more about myself, life, and the world in general in those few months I spent in Kenya. For Peace Corps, I wanted to be placed in Sub Saharan Africa and probably ruined my chances of going there by saying so in my interviews. In school, we learned that a lot of development models failed because the people trying to help applied a one size fits all mentality to all developing nations.Yes, Kenya and Nicaragua are both poor but that is one of the few things these countries have in common. In Kenya, I met Kenyans who viewed Aid workers and foreign non-profit organizations as neo-colonialism which hurt to hear but must admit is a valid concern. Does my previous obsession with Africa hurt my ability to work in Latin America? Maybe if I spent more time writing papers on Central America, I would not be writing this blog post.

At the end of the day, after giving health presentations in Spanish, and trying to form relationships within my community, I return to my humble abode and feel guilty not proud, not selfless. Although, I know it doesn’t serve my purpose here and helps no one. But the acknowledgement of all the privilege I was born with for the sole reason of being born within the borders of the United States is enough to put a pit in any North American’s stomach. Privileges like free education up until age 18, a trustworthy and efficient police force, reproductive choice, clean running water, electricity, good roads, and so much more. But most of all is the guilt that knowing in 2 years I have the privilege to return to all of the luxuries and conveniences of the USA while the majority of the world’s population lives in poverty. Also considering forgoing these amenities by choice is condescending by itself. 

Maybe my sister is right about me thinking too much and being too hard on myself. But self reflection for all foreigners abroad is necessary and hope that more share my concerns and are willing to question their presence abroad. I am certain that everything I have started here and will continue to do will be with my best effort and earnest ambition to do good. With all my heart and every cell within me, my intentions are nothing but good. If the road to hell is paved with good intentions and mine are nothing but that, what exactly am I paving right now? Only time will tell.

Living conditions: a tad uncomfortable, an abundance of bugs, and a smile

Most people associate Peace Corps with deplorable living conditions. While I can admit that they are neither luxurious nor bug free and I must confess that I am on the more spoiled end of Peace Corps Volunteers, like having a sometimes flushing toilet instead of a latrine. However, I can confirm that they are not deplorable, just drastically different and uncomfortable compared to most American cribs. My sister, Crystal Smith and best friend, Tonya Luna are visiting me this August and neither have traveled to or lived in a developing country before. Knowing this, I have started reflecting on all of the things that I found shocking, different, and extremely uncomfortable the first time I moved to a developing country, Kenya.  I am writing this post simply to ease their fears and answer their questions as well as give you all a look into my living conditions. 

My casita (little house)

First of all, I do not live in a dirt walled hut with a straw thatch roof (although, I did for a few weeks in Kenya, once) but in Nicaragua, I thankfully have a concrete one room house with a metal zinc roof, tile floor, wooden door, and wooden window. The window has no glass or screen. The door has no screen but has a very sturdy lock and no door handle on the outside limiting the possibility of a break in. The concrete walls do not reach the roof. This is specifically designed to increase air flow since it is always hot here. Fortunately in my new house, there are screens between the roof and walls which keep bats from getting in at night. Hooray!

Laundry, I do it by hand and do not have a washing machine. They do exist here but my family does not have one. We do have a lavendero which is a big cement sink outside that has a built in cement washboard. Using the laundry detergent here which comes as a bar of soap, I get my clothes wet using a bowl to scoop water out of the the pila (water storage) and wet my clothes, then I scrub them with the bar soap and scrub them even harder on the cement wash board. Followed by rinse, wring, and hang on the line in the sun to dry. Then repeat with next item of clothing.

Mosquito net. Up above, screened gaps

Let’s talk about bugs. I live in Central America. It is hot. It is tropical. It is has a very diverse as well as sizable population of bugs. No doubt, do these annoying and hideous creatures serve a purpose in this ecosystem, which I accept. However, I have yet to figure out the purpose of mosquitos anywhere in the world other than being blood-sucking, deadly disease spreading jerks.  As stated before my house does have screens between the walls and roof however, these screens only keep the bats out at night and some larger beetles. Nevertheless most creepy critters still find their way in and as of Friday morning, a scorpion (uh em, A**HOLE) entered my humble abode. Also, it seems to be that a lot of bugs bite here. Before I started wearing pants, socks, and shoes daily (which sucks because, it’s really hot), I was covered in bug bites of all different sizes and shapes despite my overuse of OFF. I hate wearing skirts now because people always comment on my battered legs. I love you Nicaragua but I DESPISE your bugs. Also, for more bug protection, I sleep under a mosquito net that I keep tucked beneath my mattress 24/7. This may be paranoid but, I refuse to give scorpions and tarantulas an all access pass to my bed or even a one-time ticket.

A little crowded

Transportation: hot, crowded, and uncomfortable, period. A lot of the public transport buses here are old, yellow school buses from the USA. During certain hours, these get filled like a can of sardines. So in addition to being squeezed into a child-size seat with other people, there is also people smooshed together standing in the hallways of the bus. As my friend and fellow PCV (Peace Corps Volunteer), Kiron once observed on a bus, “This guy is totally humping my shoulder!” Indeed it is an unpleasant picture of an awkward situation. FYI to all future visitors, your bubble space will be invaded but please come anyway. I promise you that the beaches, active volcanoes, canyon, and islands are well worth getting your shoulder humped.  Furthermore, I also promise you that I know enough Spanish to be an adequate tour guide!

Defecation; a disgusting but necessary part of life that must be addressed. Fortunately, I have a sometimes flushing toilet which means when the water is running which thankfully is every morning and evening at my house, the toilet flushes. However, when there is no running water, like in my training family’s house, you have to get a bucket, fill it with water, then pour the water down the toilet bowl until all contents flush. This had to be done for every “event” at my training family’s home, and “larger events” required 2 buckets of water. They also had to be retrieved from the well out back and brought into the house, so when someone was bringing in 2 buckets of water… we all knew what that meant! LOL. However, latrines are common in public places and more people have latrines than toilets in rural areas so don't be surprised if that is the only option. Also, toilet paper and soap are not ubiquitous here. Another recommendation is to always have them with you. Before you rethink visiting, remember, there are smoking volcanoes jutting out of a gigantic lake filled with the world's ONLY freshwater sharks! C'mon, that totally outweighs, the lack of toilet paper. Toughen up and visit!

Something that surprised me is how quickly I am adjusting. I believe that it is easier if you accept all the new changes and learn to live a different way without comparing it to what you're accustomed to. For example, if every time I hand-washed my clothes or dishes, I thought about how much easier it would be to throw them into a washing machine, I would turn sour and go nuts. Essentially, my life is very “normal” here like back home. I walk to work at 8 am daily Monday through Friday, cook, even bake (ie, I made onion-herb beer bread today, yum!), clean, surf the internet, chat with my nica family, neighbors, and friends, and play with my kitten. Yes, a washing machine, dish washing machine, glass-screened window and screen door would be nice but are not necessary. Things are just things that don’t make a life great or give it meaning. My experience doing work I enjoy and getting to know the wonderful people in my site greatly outweigh the conveniences of the good ol’ USA. Honestly, the only things I am really missing back home are the things that mean the most to me; my family, friends, and (as predicted) two unforgettable, adorable pups, Dexyboo and BooBear.   

If these were your dogs, 

you'd miss them too! 

Beautiful Things About Nicaraguan Culture

Leaving everything you know for everything you don’t is very difficult but totally worth it. Four months ago, I arrived in Nicaragua not knowing what to expect, except for heat and beans. Both of which I get plenty of and love most of the time. Having never been to a Latin American country before and speaking unbearably poor Spanish, I was a mix of complete fear and overwhelming excitement! Fear for not fitting in, doing something offensive culturally and excitement for seeing, learning about, and living in an entirely new place and culture. Obviously, as I am currently writing this under the strong Nicaraguan sun, excitement prevailed. Thankfully, I have had the privilege to live among families in Nicaragua to learn more about their culture, food, traditions, and customs. As a result, I would like to share some of the beautiful things about Nicaraguan culture that have warmed my heart and opened my eyes to a new way of life, my new way of life in Nicaragua.

-Open door policy: If people are awake, their doors are open.  Everyone here keeps their doors wide open for two reasons I’ve observed, to let cool air in and invite visitors. Here strangers, acquaintances, even vendors are welcomed into the house or at the very least offered a chair on the front porch, chatted up, and often times offered coffee or a refreshment.  It is very kind and no one seems to be annoyed or bothered by the presence of door to door vendors or friends/family stopping by daily to chat.

-Free food, coffee, and frescos (delicious freshly made juice with lots of sugar): Nicaragua is the 2^nd poorest country (1^st is Haiti) in the western hemisphere, and yet no matter how poor the people are if you enter their house, you are welcomed like family and offered free food, frescos, and always coffee.  Also, you can’t feel bad or like a burden if you accept, because it is taken as an insult if you deny these offerings.  In training we were taught to tell long excuses in Spanish in case we are offered something we don’t want or eat. For example, I can’t drink a lot of caffeine because it makes me nauseous, therefore when offered, I say I can only drink a little because of caffeine makes me sick and usually people understand and pour me a little bit or offer me fresco instead. It is for this reason, that I am no longer vegetarian because when offered half of a chicken and beef (beef is very expensive and hence a really special treat when offered) I ate it out of respect and a desire to make a good first impression.  I consider this a small to price to pay for building strong relationships in my site. Also, these animals were not tortured than slaughtered in a factory farm like USA meat.

-Family style: Family comes first here, period. Work, friends, personal ambition, wealth, all are secondary concerns. Also, extended families mostly live together on a compound where multiple smaller houses will be on the same plot of land and communal spaces like outdoor bathrooms and kitchens are shared by all.  

Honestly, I feel very lucky to have been sent to such a gorgeous country filled with generous people. However, I have to admit that there are times when I feel confused, dumbfounded, and even frustrated by cultural clashes. In these moments, keeping an open mind and open heart serve me well. Despite the challenges of adapting to a new culture, there is no denying the unique and life-changing impact from this experience.

Training Highs and Lows

Last week, a lifelong goal of mine came true, I swore in as an official Peace Corps volunteer!  After 3 months of training which included 6 days of classes per week mostly 8 hour day Spanish classes, I am finally an official volunteer and have moved into my site. I feel very fortunate to have a site that was my first choice and even more spoiled to have a kitchen with gas stove and OVEN!!! No more cooking on the wood stove for me! Btw, I’ve found all essential pie ingredients, however if you would like to send me nutmeg, chocolate, green tea, chai tea, or any kind of tea, please feel free to do so! 

Upon crossing over into volunteer-hood, I feel the need to reminisce on training highs and lows for those of you interested in joining the Peace Corps or just curious about the process. 

Highs:

-Homestay family: really helps with language and learning about local culture

-Spanish classes: absolutely essential for learning Spanish as well as local vocabulary and accent

-Some technical classes (classes about health, development, and Nica society): not all were highs

-Volcano Masaya trip! I suggest you go; you can drive straight up to the crater and take an edgy hike around the brim of the craters

-Practicum week (a week where we observe volunteers in their work): super busy but we went to the BEACH in Corrinto so that made up for all the stress!

-Site Placement: I got the site I wanted so it would be ridiculous not to include this as a major HIGH!

-Site visit: I was beyond excited to see my new home, spent the week with an old friend, and met a lot of counterparts and potential collaborators for work like local NGOs, the casa materna, and health posts in the surrounding communities.

-Hiking up a local Somoto peak with some youth! Got to see a gorgeous semi-ariel view of the city that will be my home away from home for the next 2 years!

-Swearing In weekend in Managua: a few friends and I danced ALL night in a Managua night club, than lazed around by a pool the next day only to have sushi and sangria for dinner the following night… a Posh Corps weekend indeed that will only be repeated on rare occasions seeing as that our salaries are low low low.

Lows:

-Feeling like a child again in your host family because they cook and clean for you and you are a 25 year old with a curfew again

-some technical sessions that were repeated or on just on Saturday mornings lol

-Fishbowl feeling in my tiny training town which will hopefully be alleviated by living in a city now

-Always being around the same people, classes all day with the same group of people gets old 


Thankfully, I have more highs than lows for training and am optimisitc that my service will produce the same results. 

Somoto Lovin'

Last week, I visited my site, Somoto, Madriz (the place where I will be living and working for the next 2 years) and fell in love with it! When we received our site list, there were 9 options and after reviewing Somoto’s description I knew I wanted it, then after reviewing the rest, I wanted it even more. I wanted Somoto, not only for its location (mountains, department capital, easy access to highway for traveling, and a sweet canyon nearby for swimming and hiking) but also for the focus of the work there, more sexual and reproductive health and an opportunity to work with at risk youth in poorer neighborhoods of the city. That being said, I waited anxiously for 2 weeks to find out my site since Peace Corps Nicaragua chooses it for you. And when I opened my neatly wrapped site packet and saw SOMOTO!!! I cheered and actually cried tears of joy!

This photo is of Somoto from the top of a local peak that we hiked up with some of the local youth.  

To make the story even sweeter, I am actually replacing a friend of mine.  Five years ago, I studied abroad in Nairobi, Kenya and befriended another American girl in my program.  She came to Nicaragua in 2010 and was placed in Somoto.  After 2 years, her Peace Corps service is up and she will be leaving Somoto in April, when I begin my 2 year service there. Not sure, how often friends replace friends in the Peace Corps but I have a hunch that this is rare. Last week during my site visit, she was an excellent guide and introduced me to a lot of great NGOs I can work with, the casa materna, the city Mayor, and the health centers where I will working as well as friends and some of the youth that I will working with also.

First day, we met with a local NGO that took us out to rural communities including all indigenous community to see some of the work and possible options for further work.  This community was formed after all of their houses and belongings were destroyed by a flood. Therefor this Nicaraguan organization built new homes for the people as well as a craft center where the women can create pottery and other crafts for selling to bring in income for their families. An Irish NGO, which I will be working with, built their first and only school. One of the most striking moments of my visit was my trip to the neighborhood where over half the families are missing latrines therefore they just go outside and people are living in houses made from sticks, plastic sheeting, and cardboard.  I’ve seen these living conditions before in the slums of Kenya but was still shaken by seeing this on the outskirts of a small, tranquil city like Somoto.  However, I am very excited to work with the youth there since some attend an afterschool center called Los Quinchos where they learn trades that will help them earn more money as adults and hopefully break out of the cycle of poverty.  I also visited a couple other NGOs in Somoto and a couple health posts in the outlying communities.  One thing is for sure, I will be busy, busy and I’m happy about that. There is definitely no shortage of work or need there.  Some of the plastic and cardboard houses that need latrines.
 We did it!

This photo is of Somoto from the top of a local peak that we hiked up with some of the local youth. 

Everyone including my new family were very welcoming, kind, and all asked “Are you Nicaraguan or latina?” because of my sun tanned skin.  Funny considering how pale I am when I live in cloudy Seattle versus here.  My new home is adorable! I have a one room casita (small house) with a covered porch and a teeny kitchen that has a mini fridge and gas stove/oven!!! So excited about this since I will be cooking for myself. The shower and bathroom is outside but it is an actual showerhead so when the water is on, I will not be taking a bucket bath. I am so spoiled and so thankful about it.

I move to Somoto for good on April 1^st and will keep you updated on my work and life there. Until then, I highly suggest that you google Somoto, Madriz, Nicaragua or even the Somoto Canyon so you can see for yourself how beautiful it is here. 

Confronting my biggest fear… while naked

Last Tuesday morning, the power was out again. My house is made of concrete and has no paint so despite having windows it is still very dark inside our house during the day. That being said, I got up, got a bucket of water from the well in the back, which my host mother complemented wonderfully with a small pot of boiling hot water so its not freezing, then headed to the bathroom to take a bucket bath like I do every morning. However, this morning a hopefully rare surprise awaited me. As usual I scoped the bathroom for spiders, scorpions, rats and cock roaches. Seeing none in the dark, I de-robed, hopped in and began to lather up.  I squat in the shower to prevent lot of splashing since the shower curtain has holes in it. It is important to mention the squatting since my delicate parts were close to the floor in this vulnerable position. So while naked, squatting, and soapy, I see something crawl quickly to my side, inches away from my right foot. I look over and see a TARANTULA bigger than my fist!!!!!  Without thinking, I screamed and jumped over the toilet, slipped on the floor since I’m soapy remember.  As I’m about to open and run out the door, I realize, “Holy shit, I’m naked!!!” So I have to grab my robe which is now eerily close to the tarantula that is crawling its way up the wall. That being said, I grab my robe, shake it vigorously (in case he has friends hanging out in there), and wrap it around me. Then I run to my room grab my super-size can of RAID and RAID bomb the shit out this monster.  Imagine a mushroom cloud of raid. There is no way, I’m not getting cancer because of this. Despite the Raid bomb, this damn thing still lives and slowly creeps its way out of the bathroom. It’s obviously struggling so I stomp on it. Then my host mom walks by and stomps on it again to make sure its dead.

The funny thing is I did not realize or did not want to admit that I had just bathed with my biggest fear, a fucking tarantula until my host mother said, “Pico caballo grande!” Finally, validation from the woman who constantly tells me that all the spiders in my room are small or skinny. Trust me, they’re neither. Furthermore, they call Tarantulas, Pico Caballos or horse biters here because when they bite horses, they paralyze them!  So yea, I had a dangerous tarantula in my bath, inches from my lady parts that could paralyze me with its venom. I can't think of worse place to bit by a tarantula than my lady bits. 

In other news, with the help of the sun, I accomplished an integration goal this weekend.  I got into a cab which happened to have 2 other Peace Corps volunteers in it that I do not know and they both thought I was Nicaraguan!!! That is of course until I opened my mouth and spoke Spanish in my distinctly American accent, lol. Oh Nicaragua, how I love you. 

First post from Nicaragua!

This is my frist post from Nicaragua and I will try my best to keep up with this thing but am making no promises. Last weekend I moved in with my first host family in the small town of Guisiquiliapa (whiskey-lee-a-pa) near Jinotepe in the Carazo department. My family is very kind and consists of a mom, a dad, and their 4 year old son, Nicolino  in their small house. I have my own room in their 2 bedroom house. For income, my host dad makes and sells organic highly fertilized dirt. They also have horses, roosters, hens, a dog, a cat, and unfortunately cockroaches. I promise to post pictures soon. Side note, mosquitoes love me and despite wearing repellant, I  have more than 12 bites already that itch like crazy. Good thing I´m on antimalarials! Fingers crossed, I don´t get dengue.

My days consist of 6 hours of spanish class 4 days a week. Two other days per week are classes on Nicaragua, safety, their status of health, and our jobs that we will be doing. Since I will be teaching nutrition at the casa maternas, my fellow Maternal and Child health volunteers and I will undergo gardening classes as well. My family is patient with my poor spanish and speaks slowly and repeats things for me when I don´t understand.  I am already surprised by how much spanish I remember and how well I am improving. My family and spanish teacher here speak NO english so I have no choice but to speak in spanish. Actually, right now I am having a hard time typing in english and not spanish because my mind is set to spanish. Also, this week I have to start a youth group with 2 other volunteers and teach them how to teach safe sex practices with others and other health information.

Nicaragua is a poor country but the people so far are very pleasant and it is beyond beautiful. I can´t wait to see more of the country especially the volcanoes and islands where are a plenty. Nicaragua´s tagline is, Land of Lakes and Volcanoes. 

That is all for now folks. Pictures to come!