Grety and her daugter Jennifer at the beach during a field trip with the bank women.
Yo soy mujer en busca de igualdad
No aguantaré ni abuso ni maldad
Yo soy mujer y tengo dignidad
Y pronto la justicia será una realidad
(I am a woman in search of equality
I will not be abused or maltreated
I am a woman and I have dignity
And soon justice will be a reality)
This is the refrain of the song “Yo soy mujer”, which I stumbled upon a few weeks ago and which has been the theme song of the micro-lending banks as of late. All nine groups of women with which we work have sung this song together at least once, and a good number of them ask to keep the lyrics when we’re finished. In a nutshell this is why we lend small amounts of money to women. We (the bank team - Grety, Silvio, and myself) are interested not only in the financial wellbeing of the woman but also in her growth as a self-confident, empowered, and internally motivated person. Yes, the women are happy when we hand them a 3,000 córdoba ($150) loan, but I have yet to see them happier than when they are gathered with 25 or 30 of their compañeras verbalizing their own self-worth and expressing their common aspiration of justice in their lives in song form.
A one word description of work and life in El Recreo (where I spend my days from 7:30 to 5 and all too often on weekends) would be: tremendous. My relationships with coworkers is very enriching…every morning I engage with Doña Aura, the 65 year old cook at the Project, in a 20 minute discussion on anything from the 1979 revolution, international pandemics, how to chop vegetables just right, or Nicaragua’s colonial history. When we finish she always laughs and apologizes for talking my ear off. Haisy, the administrator at the Project and part-time university student, always greets with a bear hug and we chit chat about her favorite band Maná. Miriam and Arlen, who work in the pharmacy and visual health programs, are great at encouraging me to be myself and allow me to practice my Nica slang on them. And of course, my direct co-workers Grety and Silvio serve as mentors and companions, always willing to explain a cultural quirk that I don’t understand or to listen attentively as I struggle to explain in Spanish some new idea that I have. Grety and I love to talk about family, responsibility, work ethic, and how to empower women, while Silvio and I chat about life in the U.S., international politics and economics, or gossip about my community mates.
Ana María, the director of the Project, and Silvio at the beach
Rosario and Doña Aura, who make up the Comedor (discount lunch) program.
Much of my current happiness at work also has to do with some progressive shifts in the banks. We recently decided to lower the interest rates on loans from 10% down to 7% in an effort to accommodate the crumbling economy and resulting difficulties faced by the women. We are also expanding the size of the banks in order to reach more women. In the last month we opened two new “banks” (groups of women who take out a loan together), increasing the number of women in the banks from 203 to 241. We’re hoping to get up to 300 women in the near future. I am “in charge” of three of the banks, and I find it very fulfilling to work with “my women”, focusing my energies on memorizing their names and engaging in activities and discussions with them of my choosing. My newest group of 24 women is quite inspiring and I look forward to our first four-month cycle of weekly meetings.
The Mountains
My JV community went on retreat in mid-march to a place called La Garnacha, a small village in the mountains outside of Estelí in the north of the country. It was so cold (comparative to Managua, with temperatures hovering around 100 degrees), so peaceful and quiet, and so beautiful, and with stunning views of the countryside and distant volcanoes. La Garnacha has in a sense become my personal place of respite. Three weeks after our retreat Patrick and I returned to the village with our guitars and a tight budget to bask in the fresh air, beautiful views, and friendly campesinos.
My community watching the sunset as we did every evening on retreat at the Mirador (viewpoint).
Patrick and I getting our much needed fix of mountains and fresh air.
Fresh Food
Fresh avacado, tomato, and cheese.
Perhaps I take for granted my phenomenal access to nutritious, fresh food here in Managua. We do almost all of our shopping at the marketplace instead of a grocery store. Almost everything we eat in the house- eggs, vegetables, fruit, rice, and beans- are grown nearby and do not pass through the hands of any major business or packaging company. I love to walk through the fruit and vegetable “aisle” in the market (perhaps “minefield” is a more accurate description), recognizing that the food for sale was not shipped from thousands of miles away with a Chiquita sticker on it, but rather is probably a couple days old and sold from a farmer to a man with a truck, and from the man with the truck to the woman selling it in the market. The ease of obtaining fresh, unpackaged, unprocessed, cheap, and healthy food is probably not something I will have the luxury of indulging in all my life, so I love it while it lasts. Thanks for reading, and enjoy the following random pictures!
Hanging out, in true Nicaraguan fashion, on the sidewalk in front of our house at night.
Rest assured, we are fully prepared should the swine flu end up in Nicaragua.
Rosa Manuela, a bank woman, and her grandaugter frolicking in the waves.
Marling, a phenomenal bank woman with her daughter Diana.
My unintentional pose as Nicaragua´s national hero, Augusto C. Sandino.
