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!