Saturday

It's merely 10:22am and I’ve already been in commission for more than 4 hours. Despite the luxuriously lethargic lifestyle, we start each day early--I’m always awake before 6am. (I can’t claim to have ever voluntarily woken up at 6 on a weekend in the States).

Regardless, I was supposed to go horseback riding this morning, but it rained last night and into the morning, and now there’s too much mud. The power of the rain here is immense. Not only does it rain with tremendous gusto, but it dictates the lifestyle to an incredible extent. I haven’t seen it myself, but during the really rainy months (October, November) the rain is such that the road becomes a river and everyone is simply stuck. Neighbors across the road forge the road-turned-river to seek refuge on our higher ground. Those who can’t swim rely on the few who can to carry them to safety. I can only imagine how spectacularly dirty the river/road must be- the road (unpaved) is always peppered with cow dung, trash, some barefoot kid’s left sandal, and pretty much anything else you would object to sharing a swimming pool with. And there’s no transportation between communities, whatsoever, when the rain comes. The first time my host family was describing this to me, I kept pestering them, saying, “but what if someone has an emergency?”, “what if someone is really sick?” and they just shook their heads and smiled what seemed to me a smile laced with an odd pride. “No,” they said.

If one thing is clear, it is that patience is essential here.

Last night we lost power (a frequent occurrence) and it hasn’t come back yet. When we lose power in the States, certain things come to a halt. We feel slightly helpless and at a loss as to how to go forward. Here, life goes on pretty much unchanged. The TV goes off (much to my relief- it’s really loud and I share a wall with it), it gets incredibly dark, but that’s about it. When we lost the electricity last night, I had been helping my oldest host-sister study for her English test (she’s taking it right now). The lights went out, my headlamp went on, and she kept up, despite the cacophonous background noise of 5 boys under the age of 8 playing less than 2 feet from us. Needless to say, the bugs swarmed the flashlight and therefore my face and hers. While I was ready to pack it in, she endured without seeming to notice the further deterioration of her already abysmal study conditions. (I don’t think I’ll ever be able to complain about MSE again).

Ayayay, the little boys have returned to their new favorite roost- my window. They spent a few minutes solely peeking, but rapidly advanced to climbing half-way through the window and then jumping back out, meanwhile giggling without pause. Being stared at gets old fast, not to mention uncomfortable. But in my current position, closing the window is not an option. Not only would it be rude, but it would leave me bereft of light and air. I’ve been rendered defenseless. I thought that if I ignored them, the curious quintet might cease and desist. However, they have taken to calling my name and pounding on the window sill instead. They are a determined bunch. (Also fairly bored, as they don’t have any structured activities whatsoever- every day is exactly the same for them). They were adorable for the first week or so. Now it’s time to channel some of that Nica patience…

I want to backtrack a little bit and write about some of the cool stuff I’ve gotten to see and do but haven’t had time to share. Last weekend I met up with the other interns who live a 45 minute walk up the road in Las Salinas, and from there we went by motorcycle to another community, El Higuaral, that’s even further away, for a lesson on preparing Nicaraguan delicacies. One of the other interns works at the government health center (centro del salud) in Las Salinas and her supervisor there, Martha, invited us for the lesson. Martha is a really impressive person. She’s a nurse and has a degree in public health. Her brother is a conservationist and works at nearby Punto Teoneste to protect the turtle population. Hopefully I’m going to get to watch the turtles hatch and scramble to the sea. They were supposed to make the trek last week but the conditions weren’t right so we’re crossing our fingers for this coming week. Anyway, Martha lives with her husband, daughter, and baby son amongst basically all of her extended family. She seems to have innumerable sisters, who each have a sizeable brood of their own. The lot drifts in and out of a few houses, seemingly equally at ease in each, receiving loving attention wherever they pause.

The first item on the day’s menu was naxatamales- a celebrated Nicaraguan dish made of corn meal (maza, the base of nearly every Nica recipe), potatoes, tomatoes, onions, mint, oregano, various other herbs, chicken or pork, and all wrapped and boiled in palm or grape leaves. Our first task was to venture into a near by palm grove and hack off leaves with a machete. (Very exciting for us gringos). We hauled back the enormous leaves, trying to avoid their dripping juices that stain on contact. The next step involved searing the leaves over the fire, which was located in the yard, right outside the kitchen. Then the leaves were torn into appropriate sizes and we could being constructing the naxatamales. First, you trickle a little water on your palm leaf and then plop a handful of corn meal on top. Then you arrange the other ingredients on top. When you’ve got it the way you want it, you wrap it into a little bundle and tied it with string. Once they’re all ready, they go into a huge pot of boiling water for about an hour.

Next we made tortillas, which I really enjoyed. They tasted so much better than any I’ve had before. We also made manuelitos- little ball shaped desserts made from the same maza as the tortillas, but with cuahada (the local cheese that accompanies every meal) and copious amounts of sugar mixed in. I missed the cooking of the manuelitos, but I presume they were thrown in a pot of oil. To take things a step further, before you stuff yourself, you dip them in honey. ¡Que rico!

After lunch we walked a short distance down the road to the river, where the finishing touches are being put on a new bridge. Until recently, there was no bridge, so people, cars, supplies, etc, couldn’t pass during rainy season or after heavy rains in general. A few years ago a bridge was put up, but it wasn’t high enough and the river washed over it easily. Now it’s much higher, but it’s only a foot bridge. It’s not wide or strong enough for cars. So those who live past the river are still fairly isolated.

While we were checking out the view from atop the bridge, a couple of men on horseback herded their cattle underneath us, nearly taking down an electrical wire. It was sort of a sad sight. The men hit the cattle pretty hard, and the cattle seemed frantic and frightened.

Jumping ahead- later that night we drove to a beautiful beach called Astillero to watch the sun set and eat our naxatamales. The ride there was memorable because I was convinced that I was going to fall out of the truck. The truck had a small cab and a flat bed. The bed was outfitted with 2 wooden planks and 2 metal poles to sit on. My seat was on one of the poles, and I nearly got decapitated by numerous tree branches and thrown from the truck as we traversed the cavernous road. (The roads aren’t paved so it’s a rough ride, to say the least). The truck ran out of fuel half way there, but thankfully we had extra on board and siphoned it in using half of a 2 liter coke bottle and my pocket knife (still comes in handy, dad). Oh, and before we even got going, the truck had a flat tire and a new one had to be found and then put on. The entire day was quite an adventure. Anyways, the sunset at Astillero was unbelievably beautiful. I’ve never seen anything that compares. And thankfully my camera captured it well, so I can show you all.

Tuesday night we camped on one of the beaches- Popoyo- which is a coveted surfing destination. The occasion was the full moon and it was spectacular. We woke up in time to catch the sunrise, but our view was obscured by the hills, so we couldn’t actually see it. We caught a ride back to Las Salinas from a worker who was making an early morning journey, and then I hopped on the bus that shuttles between Tola and the rural areas (where we are) to get home and to work.

Now back to today- I spent the afternoon baking with my host sister, Kathy. We kneaded dough and made empanadas, and also iced a cake that she had already baked. Then we made an apple pie! (Benj or Dad, please mention this to Grandma, and tell her that I told Kathy how we make ours). I also spent a good amount of time reading today, which was really nice. When I first started living here, I was tearing through my limited supply of books at a very unsustainable pace. But after a week or so, my reading time tapered off, to the point that I hadn’t been reading much at all. It was great to get back to my book this morning.

Today has been an unusually lively day around here. There have been people in and out all day and also a group of guys preparing the field for the baseball game tomorrow. They whipped out machetes and cut the grass, making a neat infield. They also built dugouts out of tree branches and palm leaves. The game is at 9 tomorrow morning, and then in the afternoon there’s soccer. I’m excited. After they finished building the dugouts, the guys started passing around the Flor de Caña (rum) and then the fighting started. Some really drunk jerk was fighting with my host mom! They were shoving each other, and he ripped off her watch. He was such an ass, but everyone was enjoying the show. I was pretty scared, but no one else seemed super concerned.

Oh! And for any of you have sent me a letter- I have confirmation that the mail does function. Another intern received a package to the address I posted. It took about 2 weeks, but it made it to Tola successfully. Hopefully I’ll get some mail soon!