Reintegration is weird. It is like riding a bike again – but it’s as if I lent my bike to a friend who painted it, lowered the handlebars, and wore down the breaks. It is familiar, yet looks new; it fits in some ways but not in others; and even taking it slow, there’s a sense of an impending crash. And I have it easy. I have a communicative and supportive partner who welcomed me back with open arms. I have a job that I enjoy and facilitates discussions on travel and culture. And I have people around me who have also lived abroad and experienced reverse culture shock. Leaving Nicaragua, was not the end of this experience. I continue to learn from my time there and am met with new challenges. I had a different flow of life for a year, as did Brian (and my work) while I was gone; rather than resume exactly where we left off, now we must create a new normal. It is a great opportunity to intentionally craft daily habits and norms. So, I’ll get on my bike again today, though my sit bones are sore from riding for the first time in a year. Wait, are my handlebars too low?
[Español abajo] Reintegration is weird. It is like riding a bike again – but it’s as if I lent my bike to a friend who painted it, lowered the handlebars, and wore down the breaks. It is familiar, yet looks new; it fits in some ways but not in others; and even taking it slow, there’s a sense of an impending crash. And I have it easy. I have a communicative and supportive partner who welcomed me back with open arms. I have a job that I enjoy and facilitates discussions on travel and culture. And I have people around me who have also lived abroad and experienced reverse culture shock. Leaving Nicaragua, was not the end of this experience. I continue to learn from my time there and am met with new challenges. I had a different flow of life for a year, as did Brian (and my work) while I was gone; rather than resume exactly where we left off, now we must create a new normal. It is a great opportunity to intentionally craft daily habits and norms. So, I’ll get on my bike again today, though my sit bones are sore from riding for the first time in a year. Wait, are my handlebars too low? Reintegración es rara. Regresar a casa es como montar una bicicleta – nunca se olvida como hacerlo. Pero en mi caso, es como si hubiera prestado mi bicicleta a un amigo que hubiese pintado la bici, bajado su manillar, y desgastado los frenos. Se ve familiar, pero también nueva; me alcanza en algunas maneras, y otras no me alcanza; y aunque ando despacio, me parece que un choque es inminente. Y lo tengo fácil. Mi pareja me dio la bienvenida, además él comunica bien y me apoya. Mi trabajo es agradable y facilita conversaciones acerca de viajes y cultura. Y tengo amigos y compañeros quienes habían vivido en otros países y conocen el proceso del choque cultural reverso. Salir de Nicaragua no fue el fin de mis experiencias. Todavía estoy aprendiendo de mi tiempo en Nicaragua y estoy encontrando retos nuevos. El flujo de la vida había sido diferente para mí, pero también para mi esposo en casa solo (y mi trabajo). En vez de regresar como fue antes, ahora tenemos que crear “lo normal” nuevamente. Es una gran oportunidad crear, con intención, nuestros hábitos y practicas diarias. Dale pues. Hoy voy a montar mi bicicleta otra vez, pero después un año sin una bici, ¡me duele mis nalgas! Espera, ¿puede ser que mi manillar sea bajo de verdad?
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After my last post, one of my sisters visited with her two kids. It was a pleasure to introduce them to my host family and Nicaragua. I most enjoyed the late night of Tetris and talking with my sister, as well as watching my niece and nephew play with my host nephew, the language difference didn't slow them down one bit! If only we adults could communicate so well without a shared verbal language... Then there was another busy week of work in León, and the anticipated visit of my husband. We are incredibly fortunate he could visit three times during my year away. I don't want to imagine what it would have been like without the visits. After three weeks together including traveling to the beautiful Corn Islands, working in León, and getting tattoos (my first!), I just saw him off at the airport. I miss him already and am glad we'll be living under the same roof again very soon. I have 3 weeks left in Nicaragua! It will fly by, I know. The year immersion is coming together as I can identify cultural differences and challenges more clearly than before and at the same time, I find myself comfortable in Nicaragua. I plan to continue to post stories of my experiences Nicaragua once I return home. Nicaragua’s lessons will continue long after I leave this land of lakes and volcanoes. Brian and I went to the 38th anniversary celebration of Anastasio Somoza fleeing Nicaragua (to be assassinated in Paraguay), the clear signal of the Sandinista revolution's victory over the dictator. That was Jimmy Carter's era when he had decided it wasn't cool to support brutal dictatorships. Reagan then made a heck of mess in Nicaragua, but no one seemed to hold that against us. It was a jovial affair with 100,000s of Nicaraguans and we estimate that we saw 10 other foreigners. ¡Viva la revolución! I recently made a trip to Costa Rica; I was able to visit where I lived four years ago, see my aunt and her granddaughter who happen to be nearby, and renew my Nicaragua tourist visa. Win! Sitting by myself on the beach, feeling nostalgic, I started to write but changed my mind. I felt like an audio recording would better capture my mood. Unable to embed the file here for the easiest listening (because I stubbornly haven’t decided to pay for Weebly premium), this is a link to the audio files in Google drive. It’s two part, English and Spanish. The Spanish is not a direct translation, but captures the mood. Cheers!
Español Acabo de ir a Costa Rica; visité donde vivía hace cuatro años, vi mi tía y su nieta quienes estaban cerca, y renové mi visa turística de Nicaragua. Estaba sentada por la playa y empecé escribir, pero decidí que un audio daría la sensación mejor. No podía subir la grabación directamente aquí (porque todavía no estoy pagando por Weebly premio), aquí es el enlace a las grabaciones en Google drive. Hay dos partes en inglés y español. El español no es una traducción directa, pero captura la sensación. ¡Salud! One of my goals while in Nicaragua was to read and I have been, about one book every other week. I am ever grateful to the Eugene Public Library for their Library2go OverDrive app subscription. I can borrow free audio and ebooks. Not every book here is through the app, but many are and all audiobooks are. This is my reading list thus far, which I also just added to Goodreads and am working on some reviews: www.goodreads.com/sarcc Every book included here was worth reading. I have started and put down a few others, which I haven't included.
*Audiobooks The Help by Kathryn Stockett* Bossy Pants by Tina Fey* Twisted Proposal by M.V. Miles Poison Blade by Kate Elliot Bridging Languages, Cultures and My Life by Penny Reid 5 Million Footsteps: The Transcontinental Trek of the Global Walk For A Livable World by Greg EdblomYes Please by Amy Poehler* Nicaragua: Surviving the Legacy of U.S. Policy: Sobreviviendo el Legado de la Política de los EE.UU. by Paul Dix (Photographer), Pamela Fitzpatrick (Editor) The Death of Ben Linder: The Story of a North American in Sandinista Nicaragua by Joan Kruckewitt Beyond Magenta: Transgender Teens Speak Out by Susan Kuklin Ruby Fruit Jungle by Rita Mae Brown Malcom X: A Life of Reinvention by Manning Marable* Two Boys Kissing by David Levithan* The 30-Day Productivity Plan: Break The 30 Bad Habits That Are Sabotaging Your Time Management - One Day At A Time! by Damon Zahariades Trans-Sister Radio by Chris Bohjalian Daring Greatly: How the Courage to Be Vulnerable Transforms the Way We Live, Love, Parent, and Lead by Brené Brown* Tipping the Velvet by Sarah Waters Notorious RBG: The Life and Times of Ruth Bader Ginsburg by Irin Carmon, Shana Knizhnik* Building a Movement to End the New Jim Crow: an organizing guide by Daniel Hunter Heart and Soul: The story of America and African Americas by Kadir Nelson Beneath This Mask and Beneath These Chains by Meghan March* My Life on the Road by Gloria Steinem* My Beloved World by Sonia Sotomayor* In progress: Open Veins of Latin America by Eduardo Galeano Notes of a Native Son by James Baldwin The New Jim Crow by Michelle Alexander Haha, perhaps the density of those three is why I’m also chewing through 50 Shades of Grey. It has been a joy to have the time and ability to read for pleasure and knowledge, outside of the world of university homework. I still have an incredibly LOOOONNNGGGGG "to-read" list, which is ok with me. One book at a time. I thought I'd be sharing an audio update, but I hit various technology road blocks. That may still be coming, but sure isn't the quick and easy update I'd hope it'd be. Weebly is absolutely capable of easy audio uploads...if I want to pay for premium...err...I think that would be my frugality at it again. Hmmm... Was I going to work on that? Anyway, here's an update written June 2nd in Leon:
[Update: Same day of audio struggle, I decided to do the simple thing and post via Google drive, see above posted June 26] By January, 4 months into my time in Nicaragua, I was feeling pretty well adapted. Matagalpa felt like home, I loved the country, and I hit a comfortable groove with my host family and friends in Matagalpa. Five months in, I hit some homesickness funk. Next, I started living and working every other week at La Brújula Bar-Café in León, and often found myself traveling with my visitors on off weeks. With that, I find myself amidst a whole new round of adaptation to a different experience of Nicaraguan culture. I am delighted to have this opportunity to work my butt off! Haha. 12-14 hour days make even just every other week still feel intense, but, really, living and working with three Nicaraguan women to run our household and launch a successful business on a shoestring budget is beyond anything I could have imagined myself to be doing right now and I love it. All the long days together feel worth it when I take a minute to look around at what we have created and all that I am learning. As a team, I feel like we are hitting our stride together, and our customers love the space. People stop in once and we see them coming back week after week. We still have a mountain of work ahead, but I am trying to take on the Nicaraguan tranquila (calm) attitude as we work every day to tackle the mountain, as mountains are best tackled, al suave (little by little). If you haven’t seen pictures, check us out La Brújula Bar-Café on facebook.com/labrujulanica. ¡Salud! At Café Campestre on Isla Ometepe: Me: I’m excited about your menu. I’ve been here for 7 months… Ben: We’re here for people like you. Ben gets me. I have been immersed in Nicaragua for 7 months. I have been living with Nicaraguans and eating with them at home probably 95% of my meals over the last 7 months. If I don’t eat gallo pinto (“beans and rice, done well”) for a day, I crave it. My favorite meal is gallo pinto, fresh crema & cuajada cheese, a fried egg, and sweet plantains. And yet…when I sunk my teeth into a sandwich of fresh baked wheat bread, roasted veggies, and hummus with homemade tahini…I felt joy. I tasted comfort. I love Nicaragua and am in the groove of daily life. I call it home. But home is also Eugene, where I have lived for the last 7 years. Home is in my husband’s arms. Home is in St. Louis with my family. And today, with Brian at the table too, I was home, and it tasted like a hummus sandwich. [Español abajo] I have always been a bit frugal. I don’t particularly care for shopping or spending money, and certainly not spending money on “non-essential” things like jewelry or a new purse. Plus, I still harbor a “broke college student” mindset (even if, in reality, I am not). These default settings make me a naturally-talented haggler as I can honestly respond, “No. That’s too much.” And I am ready to walk away. On a trip to Mexico, I came across an artisan selling his jewelry. I loved his work. I pined over the necklaces, but as usual I felt that it was too much money to spend on a necklace. I returned the next day or two, still pining over the necklaces. The artisan took pity on me and lowered the price, to which I gleefully agreed, though upon seeing the disapproving look of his girlfriend, I left with a small pang of guilt. For the last nine years, I have worn that necklace regularly and received more compliments than I could ever count. Since then I have also tried my hand at making jewelry, I learned firsthand how incredibly tedious and difficult it is; after weeks working on the same two rings, I vowed to pay artisans what they ask for their work. They know the value of their effort whereas it is easy for me to see a finished product and underestimate the effort and expertise involved. I wish I could go back and pay the price the jeweler asked for his beautiful necklace, because it was surely worth every cent. I showed up to Nicaragua with my knowledge of how to haggle (which I have also done guilt-free in open-air markets) and had expected that it would be the norm throughout the country to haggle for prices as I have experienced Mexico; however, I have found haggling much less common and not treated as a competitive sport as it is in some countries. (Taxis outside bus stations are an exception; it is always wise to be armed with knowledge of what the ride should cost.) As the Nicaragua Moon Handbook (2005) explains, bargaining is al suave; go easy on the haggling, be friendly, smile, only go back and forth a couple of times, and “remember that some Nicaraguans, to save face, may lose a profit.” Let me repeat that last point. They may accept a price that results in them taking a loss. Thinking back to my beautiful necklace, I wonder if the artisan took a loss lowering the price for me, recalling the look on his girlfriend’s face, maybe. Thinking about bargaining, with whom do we bargain? Whose labor do we question? Does it matter what face we see selling the product or service? Unfortunately, I think it does matter, as racism, malinchismo (preference for foreigners), and sexism run deep in our subconscious. When an Italian carpenter shared his fee, I didn’t hesitate to pay it. When the neighborhood Nicaraguan carpenter stated his fee, I hesitated. I am not that only one that hesitates. Across the country in the US, African Americans earn lower wages that white folks for the same work, women receive less than men, and so on. People are unjustly valued differently for the same labor. With far more street vendors and informal labor in Nicaragua than the US, there are many daily opportunities to express value (fair or unfair) for labor, products, and skills – face-to-face. Though, even in shops with price tags, where the price is generally set and it is poor form to request better deals, I have seen foreigners pushing Nicaraguan shopkeepers for better deals. I have seen companies who set fair wages for their Nicaraguan employees be asked to lower their prices. What value does this communicate? All of this combines such that when I hear a price quoted for a handmade purse, often my first thought is still “No. That’s too much.” But before I walk away, I now pause: perhaps I’m being unnecessarily frugal. Remember, a human being spent years gaining expertise and many hours (sometimes physically painstaking hours) to produce this. Would I think it was too much if the price quoted was coming from a different face? I often realize the purse it is worth every centavo and I know I will use it with pride, soaking in the complements for years to come. #whatifiamwrong? Well, share your views on haggling. I’m still contemplating why haggling norms vary. What culture values are expressed through the haggle? Including foreigners who haggle, why do they ask for lower prices? Did they read somewhere that is the thing to do? Do they haggle at home? I don’t, but I’m just one of the great variety of foreigners passing through this beautiful country. El arte de (no) regatearSiempre he sido un poco ahorrativa. No me gusta ir de compras ni gastar dinero por cosas que no son “necesarias” como joyería o un bolso nuevo. Además, todavía mantengo la mentalidad de una universitaria palmada (aunque, en realidad, no lo soy). Con todo esto, me hace una buena regateadora. Puedo decir, “No. Es demasiado.” con honestidad y estoy lista para marcharme.
En un viaje a Mexico, encontré un artesano vendiendo joyería. Me encantó su joyería. Yo quería mucho un collar, pero pensé que era demasiado gastar en un collar. Pasé otro día a ver sus collares. Me tuvo lástima el artesano y bajó su precio. Con alegría, acepté la rebaja, pero la mirada de rechazo de su novia me dio un poco vergüenza. Por los últimos nueve años he llevado este collar y he recibido más cumplidos de los que puedo contar. Desde entonces, intenté hacer joyería por mí misma, y me di cuenta del un montón de trabajo lleva hacer joyería. Después de dos semanas trabajando en dos anillos, decidí pagar a los artesanos lo que pidan. Ellos saben el valor de su trabajo y es demasiado fácil subestimar el trabajo involucrado solo viendo el producto final. Desearía regresar al artesano y pagarle lo que me pidió por su hermoso collar, seguro vale cada centavo que pedía. Llegué a Nicaragua dispuesta a regatear (lo que también lo he hecho sin vergüenza en mercados) y pensé que iba a ser lo mismo como fue en México, pero en mi experiencia es mucho menos común pedir rebajas; no es un deporte competitivo como en otros países. (Una de las excepciones es con los taxis afuera de la cotran – es mejor saber cuánto puede costar para poder pedirlo.) Como explica en el guía Moon Handbook de Nicaragua (2005), se debe negociar al suave; uno debe comportarse amable, sonreír, solo pedir uno o dos rebajas, y recordar que algunos Nicaragüenses, por pena aceptan un precio muy bajo y pierden dinero. Permítanme repetir esto - a veces ellos pueden aceptar una rebaja que resulta en una perdida. Volviendo al tema de mi hermoso collar, me pregunto si el artesano tuvo una perdida…tal vez. El regateo… ¿A quién pedimos rebajas? ¿A quién le subestimamos su trabajo? ¿Nos importa la apariencia de quién está vendiendo el producto o servicio? Desafortunadamente, creo que nos importa. Nos importa porque todavía nuestro subconsciente está afectado por racismo, malinchismo (preferencia para extranjeros), y machismo. Cuando un carpintero italiano me dijo su precio, no vacilé, pero cuando un carpintero Nicaragüense del barrio me dijo su precio, vacilé. Me da pena admitirlo. No soy la única que vacila. En los estados unidos, los afro-americanos ganan menos que los blancos por el mismo trabajo, las mujeres ganan menos que los hombres, etc. Por el mismo trabajo, hay un valor diferente e injusto. En comparación con los EEUU, en Nicaragua hay mucho más vendedores en las calles y trabajo informal. Esto nos da más oportunidades de expresar el valor (justo o injusto) para trabajo, productos, y habilidades en persona. He visto extranjeros regateando duro, aun cuando las tiendas tienen precios en las etiquetas. También, he visto extranjeros intentando regatear con empresas que ponen sus precios para poder pagar un salario justo a sus empleados nicaragüenses ¿Que expresamos del valor del trabajo cuando pedimos rebaja? Hoy en día, cuando veo el precio de un bolso hecho a mano, todavía a veces mi primer pensamiento es “No! Es demasiado.” Pero antes de marcharme, ahora tomo una pausa: tal vez estoy siendo demasiado ahorrativa sin razón. Recuerda, una persona pasa años desarrollando sus habilidades y dedica muchas horas (a veces con dolores físicos) para crear esto. ¿Variando de la apariencia de la persona vendiendo, pensaría que cuesta demasiado o no? Al fin, me doy cuenta que vale cada centavo y yo sé que voy a llevarlo con orgullo por muchos años y aceptar los cumplidos. #YSiMeEquivoco? Pues, compartan sus ideas acerca del regateo. Todavía estoy pensando el porque hay costumbres diferentes en el regateo. ¿Qué valores culturales produce el regateo? ¿Por qué algunos extranjeros piden rebajas? ¿Han leído algo que dicen que deben regatear? ¿Regatean en casa? Yo no, pero soy solo una de la gran variedad de extranjeros que pasan por aquí. [Español abajo] Journal entry October 3, 2016 (my 6th day in Nicaragua): “Today I am quitting my job.” Lu says calmly at breakfast. [Lu is my host sister.] “What?!” She proceeds to explain that she and 4 other women are opening a bar-café in León (plus two more women participating from Guatemala) in Dec/Jan. They have been talking about this for years and now they are gonna do it! …Wow. My jaw is hanging open. My brain then goes straight to me, my plans, excitement for them and to all the possibilities this could bring – I could buy in as a backer! I could offer to take over part of Lu’s current job in exchange for Spanish classes. I could transport Bryan and nacatamales to León on weekends. I’m a bit embarrassed that I immediately think about how this affects me, but perhaps that’s human. Journal excerpt from October 8, 2016: Talked to Brian, a nice long meandering conversation, maybe 2 hours. I described the café-bar that Lu and friends are starting. He got to it before I did – “You could be involved! Invest in a start up from the ground up.”…I casually quizzed Lu about their plans today. [It’s likely one person will go in a different direction.] …I’ll try to continue to play it cool and get to know these ladies better. Journal excerpt from November 3, 2016: [With some liquid courage last night, I proposed to Lussiana that] I’d like to join in the bar/café project. Lussiana was enthusiastic. We talked at some length. She’ll have a video conference meeting with all 5 women today at 5 and talk about whether they accept [my offer] and in what way…We need to work out details, but I’m in if they want me… Journal excerpt from November 5, 2016 Midmorning Lu says, “Oh I just remembered, I have good news for you.” I’m in! I’m officially an equal partner “socia” in the café-bar! She read me all the information about their purpose, vision, policies/norms. We talked money and logistics. (All this happening in Spanish.) I’m excited... This is wild and great. Often I am methodical and slow about decisions, a “maximizer” if you will. But not with this one. I took my time with sharing my decision so they wouldn’t be scared off and I’ll take my time in telling friends/family because they might think me foolish. But I am certain. I want to do this. I don’t plan to stay here permanently, but I’ll participate for the duration of my stay, first ~8 months of the bar and visits after that. I came here planning to fall in love with the place. I expect that will be even more true now. What a way to tie me/ground me here. I am still thinking to split time between León and Matagalpa, mostly so I don’t overwork (this is supposed to be a sabbatical break!) and so I can take down time in the cool mountains of Matagalpa. Hello new life adventure! Journal January 16, 2017 We have a name! After ~1hr 30min Skype meeting [and months of idea generation], 10 min before the cyber café closed on me, we found ourselves in agreement: La Brújula Bar-Café. (Brújula is a compass.) February 15, 2017 A lot has been happening in the last month. We have a house where we will live in the front rooms and have the bar-café in a dining area that opens into a lovely backyard. We are working with a carpenter to finish the critical furniture made from wood pallets. We’re collecting empty wine bottles for cutting and sanding into drinking glasses. Working on permits, menu, establishing communication norms, all that jazz. It’s exciting and I’m really happy to be involved. Check out our Facebook page to watch the progress, and come visit us if you are in León! La Brújula (español)De mi diario 3 de octubre de 2016 (mi sexto día en Nicaragua):
“Hoy estoy renuciando mi trabajo.” Lussiana me dijo tranquilamente durante el desayuno. “¡¿Qué?!” Ella siguió explicando que ella y 4 amigas se unieron para abrir un Bar-café en León en diciembre o enero (con otras dos amigas que están participando desde Guatemala). ¡Ellas han hablado de esto por años y ahora es el momento! …vaya. Mi mandíbula quedó abierta. Después, mis pensamientos vinieron a mí, mis planes, el entusiasmo por ellas y todas las posibilidades – ¡yo puedo ser socia! Puedo colaborar en el puesto de la Lu en cambio para clases. Puedo trasladar Bryan y llevar nacatamales a León los fines de semana… Me da vergüenza que inmediatamente pensé en mi misma, pero todavía soy humana. Extracto del diario 8 de octubre de 2016: Hablé con mi esposo Brian hoy, una buena conversación sin rumbo fijo, tal vez por 2 horas. Le describí el bar-café de Lu y sus amigas. Él dijo lo que yo estaba pensando antes que yo se lo dijera – “¡Podés involucrarte! Colaborar para sacar a flote un proyecto nuevo.”…Le pregunté “de pasada” a Lu acerca de sus planes. [era probable que una de las personas involucradas iría en otra dirección]…Voy a intentar quedarme tranquila, no decir nada, para que podamos conocernos mejor. Extracto del diario 3 de noviembre de 2016: [Anoche, con el coraje que cerveza produce, le propuse a Lu que] me gustaría colaborar en el bar-café. Ella estaba entusiasmada. Hablamos por un buen rato. Ella va a hablar con las otras hoy y discutir si quieran aceptar mi propuesta y a qué tipo de colaboración están dispuestas. Tenemos que manejar varios detalles, pero si me quieran, estoy lista… Extracto de diario 5 de noviembre de 2016: A media mañana, Lu me dijo, “Oh, acabo de recordar, tengo buenas noticias para vos.” ¡Me admitieron! ¡Es oficial, soy una socia del café-bar! Me leyó toda la información, sus metas, su visión, la política. Hablamos acerca de dinero y detalles. (¡Hablamos en puro español, recuerdan que es mi segundo idioma!) Estoy emocionada… Me parece una locura y genialísima. Normalmente estoy lenta y metódica con decisiones, en psicología me llama un “maximizador.” Pero no esta vez. Tomé mi tiempo a proponer a ellas para no asustarles. Y voy a tomar mi tiempo antes de compartir con mi familia y amigos para no parecer tonta. Pero estoy segura. Quiero hacerlo. No voy a quedarme aquí para siempre, pero puedo participar a mientras estoy aquí, los primeros 8 meses con el bar y visitarles en el futuro. Llegue aquí abierta a amar Nicaragua. Creo que eso es una realidad ahora. Ya, estoy ligada a Nicaragua. Todavia, voy a dividir mi tiempo entre León y Matagalpa, porque no quiero trabajo demasiado (¡después de todo, estoy en un descanso de mi trabajo!). Quedarme en Matagalpa semana de por medio me permite descansar en las montañas frescas. ¡Bienvenida a una aventura de la vida! Diario 16 de enero de 2017 ¡Tenemos un nombre! Después una reunión de Skype de ~1 hora y 30 minutos [y los meses anteriores comunicado ideas a través de WhatsApp], 10 minutos antes que mi ciber cerró, nos pusimos de acuerdo: La Brújula Bar-Café. 15 de febrero de 2017 Ha pasado mucho este mes. Tenemos una casa, vivimos en los cuartos en la parte delantera y tenemos un pasillo y patio grande para los consumidores. Estamos trabajando con un carpintero para construir los muebles más importantes, ocupando polines. Estamos haciendo nuestros propios vasos de botellas de vino cortadas y lijadas. Poco a poco desarrollamos el negocio a través de permisos, el menú, concretizando normas de comunicación, y todo. Estoy emocionada y bien contenta con mi decisión colaborar en el proyecto. Vea nuestra página de Facebook para noticias, y ¡por favor visitarnos en León! [Español abajo] For years, I have wanted to learn to play the cajón, the Peruvian wooden percussion box. I first saw a cajón played in Spain, accompanying a fabulous flamenco dancer. I loved the sound, as well as the simplicity and mobility of a small wooden box. I loved watching it played, different sounds made with the way they strike their hands and throwing in heel taps to the side panels. But, I told myself that I shouldn’t get one unless I knew I could set aside the practice time needed to get good. I told myself that I probably wouldn’t be very good because I don’t have good hand coordination – I keep time with my feet or hips, but I get off beat with my hands. Though I continue to be infatuated with the idea of playing the cajón, I didn’t buy one, my perfectionist brain worried that I wouldn’t be able to play well enough. Without even trying, I felt I failed myself in learning to play the cajón. I have lots of excuses, but I think perfectionism was the main culprit. [Español abajo] First of all, celebrating the Navidad (Christmas) here means December 24th. For Christmas, we - INCLUDING my husband Brian who was visiting me! - went over to mamá Vilma and papa Concho’s house. They are my host mother’s parents. I have been working on their family tree, in part to try to keep straight who is related to who and how. Turns out that Vilma and Concho have 95 descendants! That includes 11 children, 37 grandchildren and 47 great-grandchildren, plus there are 4 more children they raised as their own and approximately 30 spouses. The family is spread out from Costa Rica to Canada, so they weren’t all there for Christmas, though there was a nice group of folks with whom to celebrate. We grilled food, there were some small firecrackers in the street, and hung out drinking soda on the porch. The lights went out for a bit, temporarily killing the music. The neighbors diagonal from us got their battery powered music player going pretty quickly. Mamá Vilma followed suit getting out her battery powered radio and flipped through stations to blast from the porch her music of preference. The dueling music layered over each other, along with firecrackers and conversations. When leaving mamá Vilma gave Brian and I a group hug and told us with a sparkle in her eye that we make a great couple, thanks mamá Vilma, I agree. We left hitching a ride with a cousin, just in time to get to their house to have a cup of coffee and be ready for midnight. Midnight felt like New Year’s Eve in the US. We had an amazing view of the whole Matagalpa valley for the fireworks show. We toasted with a glass of wine, ate gallina rellena (traditional chicken and stuffing) on bread, and the youngest child opened a present. We made it home around 2am gleefully singing “Feliz Navidad” in the car-ride. The next day, the 25th, was low-key and provided time for Brian and I to introduce the family to our own Christmas tradition - Brian made Southern chicken & dumplings and we watched a couple cheesy Christmas movies on TV. I exchanged well-wishes with my family state-side and received a video of family in St. Louis wishing us a Merry Christmas. I very much appreciate how current technology allows us to remain connected, despite the distance. I post occasional updates here as a way of staying connected with friends and family, sharing a bit of what’s going on in my world. Perhaps it will morph into something more if I decide to take more risks in sharing with you my learning moments and reflections. Or perhaps I get too busy living life here and you’ll have to track me down on WhatsApp to figure out what I’m up to. Right now, looks about 50/50. ;) La Navidad[Comentario: Yo hice esta traducción. NO es perfecto. Yo sé hay muchos errores, pero así es mi español hoy en día, no es perfecto – ni soy.] Primero, celebran la Navidad el 24 de diciembre (en general allá celebramos con familia el 25). Para la Navidad, nosotros – incluyendo mi esposo Brian quien estaba visitándome – fuimos a la casa de mamá Vilma y papá Concho. Ellos son los padres de mi “mamá nicaragüense”. He estado trabajando crear un árbol genealógico de la familia, en parte porque yo lo necesito para recordar quien es quien y como son parientes. ¡Resulta que Vilma y Concho tienen 95 descendientes! Esto incluye 11 hijos, 37 nietos, y 47 bisnietos, más 4 hijos de crianza, y alrededor de 30 esposos. Todos no estaban aquí para la navidad porque se han dispersado a Costa Rica, los EEUU, y Canadá; pero tuvimos un buen grupo con quien celebrar. Cocinamos con la parrilla, tiraron pólvora en la calle, y pasamos tiempo tomando gaseosa en el porche. Se fue la luz por un rato, apagando la música por un momento. Con rapidez, los vecinos diagonales de la casa re-empezaron su música usando equipo con batería. Mamá Vilma siguió su ejemplo usando su radio que funciona con batería. Ella buscaba las emisoras de su gusto y las puso a todo volumen. Había capas de sonido con el duelo de la música, la pólvora, y las conversaciones. Cuando salimos, mamá Vilma dio un abrazo de grupo a Brian e yo; con la chispa en sus ojos, ella nos dijo que le parecemos una buena pareja, gracias mamá Vilma, estoy de acuerdo. Salimos con un ride de un primo, justo a tiempo llegar a su casa para una taza de café y listo para la medianoche. Medianoche me parecía como el año nuevo en los EEUU. Teníamos una vista maravillosa de la pólvora en todo el valle de Matagalpa. Brindamos con vino, comimos gallina rellena con pan, y el niño menor abrió un regalo. Cantamos “Feliz Navidad” con júbilo en camino a la casa, llegando a las 2 por la madrugada. El siguiente día, 25 de diciembre, fue tranquilo y nos dio la oportunidad presentar a la familia las tradiciones de la Navidad de Brian e yo – Brian cocinó “chicken and dumpings” (pollo y almohadas de pan cocidos en una salsa hecho del jugo de pollo y harina) y miramos películas sentimentales de la Navidad. Mi familia en los EEUU e yo nos saludamos, y recibí un video de mi hermana con saludos de la familia para la Navidad. Lo agradezco mucho como la tecnología hoy en día me permita seguir conectado con mi gente, a pesar de que estamos muy lejos. Publico aquí a vez en cuando con la meta de seguir en contacto a través de compartir un poco de que está pasando en mi vida. Tal vez este se transformare en algo diferente, si decido ser más vulnerable, compartiendo mi aprendizaje personal. O tal vez estuviere demasiado ocupada con la vida y no publicare nada, en este caso me encontrarían en WhatsApp. En este momento, quien sabe. |
Sara Arc ClarkSeptember 2017-2018 I took a year off from my job to live in Nicaragua. It was quite a journey. Archives
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