Coming to a close

Today was my last day of work at Proyecto Generando Vida in Barrio El Recreo. In five days, I will be well on my way back home. I have not had much time to stop and reflect. For weeks now, I have been saying goodbye to bank women and casual acquaintances, but today was the first time that the reality of it all set in. I worked my butt off (“me puse a las pilas”) until 3pm, leaving two hours at the end of the day to say goodbye to the Project, the Bank program, El Recreo, and my coworkers. After finishing at 3pm, I sat in the garden under some trees blowing in the wind, and contemplated my conclusion of two years working at this community center. I felt happy and proud for the work that I’ve accomplished, the struggles I’ve overcome, and the relationships I’ve built. At the same time, I felt like the Project had become a part of me, and I would feel a sense of loss to leave it behind.

Anyway, I took a few deep breaths in the garden, and made my way through the Casa de la Mujer (the house in which I worked), saying goodbye to the office, the beautiful mural, and the room that twelve times a week is filled with 30 loving and hard-working women. I walked across the street to the Project itself, where I knew some sort of going away party awaited me. I entered the open-air auditorium, filled by my coworkers and favorite bank women, and was admittedly emotionally overwhelmed with the knowledge that “this is it, I actually have to say goodbye”. The party was better than I could have ever imagined. There were icebreakers, prayers and poems, games, dancing, kind words, gifts, crying, laughing, songs, hugs, and food. The best part was joking around with the bank women one last time and finding any excuse to dance (particularly solo while playing pin the tail on the donkey). I was showered with gifts; cologne, shirts, food, underwear, and soap, among others. They’re very practical and in to hygiene here. All in all it was a wonderful way to say goodbye to the place and the people that have defined two years of my life. I went home with tears in my eyes but a smile on my face!

My last few days in Nicaragua will hold; a well known and respected annual raging party at our house, goodbyes to neighborhood friends, a dinner out with a few close coworkers, and some time with my community (which is currently 10 with the arrival of four new Jesuit Volunteers). I hope to have more time to reflect and to recap what my time as a JV has meant to me. I suppose blog entries are a good way to do that. From what I’ve heard, the most important questions one can ask while transitioning out of a host culture and into a home culture are twofold: What will I take with me, and what will I leave behind? My responses to these questions are extensive, and they will no doubt develop over time. But for now I hope to take with me (or to never forget): the love and support of community, the inspiration of people working to improve the lives of their neighbors (as seen in the Project), the hospitality to strangers and friends alike, the spirit of revolution and resistance to oppression, the music (on CD), the music (on my guitar), the mind-opening experience of seeing the world through the eyes of another culture, memories and phone numbers of my friends, and pictures. I hope to leave behind the turmoil of culture shock, stress, dengue, and the smell of burning trash.

As I begin my transition back into the United States, I hope to rest, see friends and family, share pictures and stories from my time here, and find a job. I’m just now starting to catch my breath as I finish the marathon of work at the Project. I have a lot of thinking, writing, catching up, and sharing of my experience ahead of me.
Specifically, I plan to share about my time in Nicaragua in the form of a presentation/potluck sometime in January in Seattle. If you will be in the Seattle area at any point in January and might be interested in coming, please email me at michael.marchesini@gmail.com with a message as short as “I’m interested”. That way I can email those interested with information on time and place.

Thanks for reading and accompanying me in my Jesuit Volunteer experience in Nicaragua. Enjoy a few pictures from my going away party below.


Silvio (my coworker and supervisor) giving some opening words at the going away party


Bank women in a folkloric dance competition


Silvio cracking up


My response to bank women and coworkers chanting "dance! dance! dance!" while trying to pin the tail on the donkey


Singing a song called "Amigo"


The bank team! Silvia (the newest member) reading a poem

The Pinecone

On the final night of my last retreat as a Jesuit Volunteer in Nicaragua, we all held pinecones in our hands and contemplated their metaphorical significance to our time here. My friend Patrick the Eagle Scout explained to the rest of us that a pinecone can germinate only after passing through fire. I pictured a forest fire and the new pine trees that bursts forth from the ashes. I imagined dead trees, rotting and laying the foundation for young plants and mosses. Then I started thinking about the history of humanity and the world, about meteors hitting the earth, ice ages, floods, and all the new life that commenced after the destruction. A lot of religions speak to this cycle of death and rebirth, whether it is called reincarnation or resurrection. I think they are on to something. And I think that some of the most complex truths of the universe and of our lives are reflected in something as simple as a pinecone.

So I thought about the roaring fire that destroys a forest and the germination of a pinecone that follows. Over the course of 23 months of living in Nicaragua I have experienced proverbial forest fires of culture shock, homesickness, teaching, and dengue, among others. And after each fire, after experiencing a little bit of personal destruction, something inside me grew. From the charred remains of a forest sprouted bright green, tiny saplings.

And so it will be as I approach my transition from Nicaragua back to the United States. In 40 days I will be at home in Seattle. From the reflection sessions that we did on our final five day retreat (dubbed ReO-DisO), I gathered that returning home will be no walk in the park. I have a deep bond with this country and it will be very hard to leave. But I expect that much like all the trials of adapting to a new life in Nicaragua, the challenges of “re-entry” will be life giving in the long run. In our modern society we’ve come to demonize forest fires. But they are nature’s way of purifying itself and preparing fertile ground for new life.

That being said, I look forward to another 40 days in Nicaragua, AND I look forward to coming home on December 16. I figure there’s no point in fretting over leaving Nicaragua, nor in holding my breath until I finally get home. I’m here physically, so I might as well be here mentally and emotionally. Same goes for coming home in December. I hope that my remaining time here is an opportunity for me to say goodbye to beloved people and places, and I hope to be ready to return home when the time comes.




Reflection session during our ReODisO retreat in La Garnacha, in the mountains of northern Nicaragua.


The male representatives of JVC Nicaragua


Rain-soked clothing at our cabin in La Garnacha. In the final 20 minutes of our 6 hour trip to La Garnacha we trekked through a deluge of rain, soaking the majority of our warm clothes


Meet Abigail, arguably the most adorable child in the El Recreo neighborhood


Two of my best friends among the bank women, Guadalupe and Esperanza

Political soap operas

Disclaimer:

This blog entry is a commentary on Nicaraguan and Honduran politics. It is my interpretation of the facts, and it is bound to have a bias. Those with a different political ideology (such as Nicaraguan state security or the Central Intelligence Agency, for example) might have a different take on the current events discussed on this blog. I have my opinions and they have theirs. This is a practice in freedom of speech. Oh, and this blog in no way reflects the views of the Jesuit Volunteer Corps.

Nicaragua: The Politics of Taking to the Streets

Background: Daniel Ortega IS the Sandinista party in Nicaragua. Since its inception as a political party, Ortega has been its presidential candidate in every election, and he has been the secretary general of the party in between elections. After losing elections in 1990, 1996, and 2001, Ortega did some political arm-twisting to change the constitution to allow a candidate to be elected president with only 35% of the popular vote. This allowed him to win the presidency in 2006 with 38% of the vote. The Nicaraguan constitution states that a president can serve only one term; in other words it is unconstitutional in Nicaragua for a president to run for re-election. Thus Ortega is constitutionally obligated to step down from power in 2011.

Currently: A little over a week ago the Supreme Court of Nicaragua convened a sudden constitutional convention, and voted that it is unconstitutional to NOT allow a president to run for a second term, i.e. giving Ortega the go ahead to run for re-election. The scandal is twofold: First and foremost, this “constitutional convention” was convened at an odd hour when most of the opposition judges happened to be out of the office. So, supposedly by coincidence, the only Supreme Court justices who were around to vote on the issue of presidential re-election were themselves Sandinista and supporters of Ortega. Second: Many question whether or not the Supreme Court has the authority to deem a clause of the constitution “unconstitutional”. For if it is in the original constitution, is it not by definition constitutional? But the deed is done, and Ortega will probably be running for re-election in 2011.

Opposition groups were gearing up to protest in the streets, but hoards of Ortega supporters got to the streets first in a sort of preemptive counter-protest. Sandinista counter-protestors now flood a lot of major intersections and rotundas, blaring old revolutionary hymns from speakers mounted in the backs of pickup trucks and dancing and waving Sandinista flags in celebration. And as I write this a friend is telling me that the U.S. Ambassador to Nicaragua, Mr. Callahan, publicly condemned the recent Supreme Court vote, and as a result Sandinista supporters began protesting in front of the U.S. embassy. I’m considering getting a t-shirt custom made that says “I’m not with Callahan.”

Now for clarification: I may sound critical of Ortega, and perhaps I am. Yet I think that his opposition would do far more heinous crimes to Nicaragua if they were in power. If I sound critical of Ortega, it is not out of support for his opposition but rather concern for the average Nicaraguan and the health of their country.

In other news, university students are burning tires in the streets. The government is constitutionally bound to set aside 6% of the national budget for scholarships and other forms of assistance to college students. Yet the budget has been slashed recently, and the students are irate. As a result, during the day the roads in front of the major universities are impassable because of heaps of burning tires and debris and rock-wielding college students.



Honduras: The Awkward Limbo of Coup

On June 28, if I remember correctly, 300 Honduran soldiers stormed the presidential palace, arrested President Zelaya, and sent him on a plane to exile in Costa Rica. The claim was that he had violated the constitution by proposing a popular vote for or against a constitutional referendum that, it was argued, would end up allowing Zelaya to run for re-election indefinitely. So the chief justice of the Supreme Court sent a memo to the head of the army and told him to arrest Zelaya and send him into exile.

The action was condemned unanimously by the international community, and the de facto President of Honduras, Michelleti, is recognized as legitimate by no one. The U.S. has cut off all military and economic aid, as has all of Europe. The Michelleti government has since cracked down on all civil liberties, and today Honduras continues to live in a virtual state of martial law. There is no free press, as all opposition newspapers and radio stations have been shut down. Opposition leaders are frequently arrested and beaten, and protestors in the streets are met with violent repression by the military.

Some suggest that Zelaya was not overthrown simply for breaking the constitutional rules, but rather for more complex reasons. In Honduras the two main political parties are both fairly right-wing. When Zelaya was elected he was fairly conservative (in the U.S. sense of the word), but in the last few years he has moved sharply toward the left and allied himself with people like Chavez of Venezuela and Morales of Bolivia. In Honduras most politicians, media outlets, and business people are quite conservative. So the theory goes that these conservative elements in Honduras were growing very uneasy with Zelaya´s new leftist policies, and they decided he needed to go. His attempted tweaking of the constitution was a good enough excuse, so they jumped on the opportunity to give him the boot.

In terms of U.S. involvement in the coup, it is known that the head of the Honduran military and the man who oversaw the ousting of Zelaya, General Velasquez, was trained at Ft. Benning, Georgia at the School of the Americas/ WHINSEC. The school at Ft. Benning has a reputation for training Latin American officers in fairly undemocratic actions such as overthrowing elected governments and arresting and torturing civilians. It is also known to facilitate contacts and friendships between Latin American military officers and people at the Defense Department and CIA. Some speculate that the CIA was directly involved in the recent coup, but there is no evidence to support that. There is, however, a motive (communicating a stern warning to leftist leaders in Latin America) and record of prior offenses (coups in Guatemala, Iran, Congo, Chile, Venezuela, etc.) to point a suspicious finger toward the CIA.

Currently Honduras remains in a state of repression, and all constitutional rights remain suspended indefinitely. Zelaya snuck back into Honduras and took refuge at the Brazilian embassy in Tegucigalpa. There he is engaged in negotiations with people representing the Michelleti government. The embassy is surrounded by the Honduran military. Large speakers placed up against the embassy walls blast heavy metal music day and night in an attempt to make Zelaya go crazy and leave, and occasionally tear gas is thrown over the embassy walls for the same effect.

It has been 4 months since the coup, and the Honduran government remains isolated, cut off by trade embargoes, and deemed illegitimate by almost every foreign government. The resistance against de facto regime in Honduras is growing and consists now of people who aren’t even Zelaya supporters but who have become disillusioned by the repressive Michelleti government. It is also rumored that Honduran resistance forces are crossing into Nicaragua and training in the mountains. This new Honduran government has a lot going against it, and many wonder how long it will last.

The Transcendental Nature of Music

Solo le pido a Dios que la Guerra no me sea indiferente
Es un monstro grande y pisa fuerte
Toda la pobre inocencia de la gente

These words, transformed into a Latin American-international anthem by the late Argentine singer Mercedes Sosa, were brought to life at a recent tribute concert by Nicaragua’s most famous musicians. The words rang throughout the open-air restaurant, echoed by hundreds of Nicaraguans, all of whom knew them by heart. Mercedes Sosa was an enormous, deep voiced woman famous for taking little-known songs and transcending them into profound, revolutionary, and almost spiritual Latin American hymns.

I was overwhelmed with joy to be present among so many adored local musicians and to take part in the singing of songs written in distant countries but known so well by people in so many different countries. Especially exciting for me was the performance of three songs by Victor Jara. He was a Chilean musician from the 1960s and 70s, tortured and murdered by a U.S.-backed military dictatorship for daring to utter words of peace, love, and revolution in his songs. In Managua, Nicaragua in 2009, everyone knew every word of his songs. Victor Jara’s music and the songs made famous by Mercedes Sosa seem to transcend their artist, their nationality, and time.

The last act of the concert was Luis Enrique Mejia Godoy (my favorite live local artist) accompanied by his brother Carlos Mejia Godoy (Nicaragua’s undisputed greatest musician). Seeing Carlos live in concert has always been a dream of mine since coming to Nicaragua. He is the author of most local revolutionary hymns and pseudo-national anthems, and has been making music since the 1970s. The two brothers, now in their 60s, to me touch the soul of Nicaragua through their music. They are a part of its history, its politics, and its culture. Watching them sing of the beauty of their country and its people with so much energy and emotion was a profound encounter with the culture and the soul of this country.


My health and that of this country

I consider myself around 90% recovered from my bout with dengue fever. I still have remarkably little energy and cannot do anything for half a day without some deep rest. But I feel much better each day and each week and am much more active than I was before. It is physically challenging to get back into my work rhythm, but it is very rewarding as I enjoy being back in the company of my coworkers and the bank women.

Apparently I am not alone in my struggles with dengue; the disease has turned into a bit of an epidemic here, according to newspaper headlines and warnings from the U.S. embassy. Everyone knows someone who has dengue- Norma Helena Gadea, a famous local musician, would have played at the Mercedes Sosa tribute concert had she not come down with dengue the day of! Needless to say I have gone to extraordinary measures to avoid mosquito bites. Luckily the country is experiencing a bit of a drought, because heavy rains would make the already out-of-control dengue even worse. Unfortunately that means farmers don’t grow food and Managua gets in a pinch for fruit, veggies, beans, and rice.


El Recreo

Work and life in El Recreo is great (aside from the extreme poverty and violence of course). The banks continue to grow in size, which spells more work for me but more women who get loans (over 300 now). For a recent cultural celebration I asked Dona Aura (the 65 year old cook at the Project) to accompany me in singing De Colores, a good old fashioned Central American sing-a-long. I was a little nervous to play guitar and sing in front of a big crowd, but Dona Aura’s energy and joy calmed my nerves and helped me savor the moment.

I´m attaching a few pictures below- the first is of Nicaraguan traditional dance at a celebration at the Project. Picture #2 is Amber and me sporting our brand new Proyect Generando Vida shirts (I´m unhappy to have my picture taken at the end of a long day). The third is a picture of my community on a weekend retreat, overlooking the Laguna de Masaya. The last two were taken during a bank desembolso, a meeting with the women in which we give out the loans and eat delicious food to celebrate. Thanks for reading!

Mosquitos Bandidos

Roughly three weeks ago, one of the many mosquitoes that bite my ankles every day happened to be infected with a virus that causes dengue fever. A week later (two weeks ago now), I was at work on a Tuesday, the day of the week that I am responsible for the meetings of 3 groups of bank women. The first meeting of the day was what we call a “bank closing”, where every woman absolutely must pay off the last of her loan, or else the rest of the women have to loan her the money. Bank closings are the most stressful thing that we do. They involve a lot of crying, pleading, arguing, loud noises, and heat. This closing lasted from 9-11 am. At 10am, out of the blue I instantly became more tired than I have ever been at that hour, and my muscles pretty much just shut down. I just sat there for the last hour of the meeting while my coworkers did everything, stunned at my body’s sudden exhaustion. The rest of the day I was completely incapacitated. I couldn’t eat, and basic functions such as walking and talking were a challenge. The last thing I did before leaving work was drive my coworker and $3,000 to deposit in the bank. That was a poor decision, and it is a miracle I did not pass out while driving the Project pickup truck.

I left work early and went straight to a local doctor’s office, where I was running a 103 degree fever and was misdiagnosed with an ear infection. As my doctor watched me shiver and bob my head as if I was going to faint, she changed her diagnosis to the H1N1 flu and told me to go immediately to a public hospital (apparently private ones here don’t have the resources to deal with said influenza). I didn’t believe her and desperately wanted a nap, so I went to bed, and the physical sensation that death was upon me quickly dissipated. Over the next 5 days I rested, drank tons of disgusting re-hydration formula, and nibbled on saltine crackers and white bread (while taking antibiotics for the non-existent ear infection). For a while I improved, but then my symptoms returned and included a soar throat and achy eyes. I suspected malaria or dengue, diseases that tend to have a second wave of symptoms.

I decided on a Sunday evening to go to the hospital. One of my housemates was going there anyway to check up on her finger after a horrifying incident one week prior involving cookies, an electric blade, and lots of blood and screams. So we went to the hospital, my housemate with a stitched and bandaged finger and me sick as a dog. Two hours after arriving at the ER the doctor told me I had dengue fever (ha! I knew it!), and that I would need to be hospitalized for 5 days (ohh boy…). Apparently dengue goes after white blood cells and platelets, and I had scarce amounts of both. So from Sunday evening until Saturday morning, I sat in a hospital bed in an air conditioned room, watched tons of cable TV, ate delicious food, and took walks up and down the hallway to check out the Managua skyline every night (Managua has widespread power cuts and almost no multi-story buildings, so the night skyline isn’t actually that impressive).

The first few days in the hospital were a little scary. The doctor described my case of dengue as a waiting game where we keep our fingers crossed that my platelet levels don’t go so low that the dengue becomes hemorrhagic, which he said would be “catastrophic”. They didn’t go dangerously low, gracias a Dios. I was comforted throughout my stay in the hospital by round the clock visitation from my housemates (someone stayed with me every night and most of the time during the days) and from a number of coworkers, my boss, five nuns bearing Gatorade and cookies, Father Joe (our in-country coordinator), and a handful of bank women! Turns out that a few bank women actually work at the hospital as janitors. Two of my favorite bank women (the ones dancing in a previous blog entry) tried to visit me, but were denied entry by the guard because they couldn’t conjure up my last name. The hospital was a good, private hospital (not Nicaragua’s best), perched on the only hill in central Managua about a 20 minute walk from El Recreo. I was glad I didn’t go to Hospital Vivian Pellas, the best hospital in the country located 13 kilometers south of Managua. It is undoubtedly more expensive, it’s too far for most potential visitors, and it is exclusively frequented by foreigners and Nicaragua’s elite. I very much preferred going to a nearby hospital that is modest but well respected.

I left the hospital on Saturday after being gauged for all I’m worth by the doctor who attended to me (I was definitely given the “gringo price”, although I hear it was peanuts compared to U.S. hospital fees). Had I gone to a public hospital, I would have gotten slightly inferior care, but would not have paid a dime. I am grateful that Nicaragua has universal healthcare for the vast majority of the population that can’t afford insurance or a doctor’s visit. I think that if Nicaragua could obtain medical expertise and resources from the U.S., and if the U.S. could adapt Nicaragua’s free basic health care and efficiency in billing and bureaucracy, then both countries would have phenomenal health care systems. Touchy subject these days, I know.

Anyway, it’s been two weeks since dengue first hit me like a train, and I’m back home and resting a lot. The doctor (the one with the freshly padded wallet) told me to rest for 2 more weeks, which sounds like a long time. I would hope to be back to work before then, but I’ll return to work when my body is good and ready. Today I talked on the phone with a gringa friend who has lived in Nicaragua for twenty something years. Her response to me telling her of my dengue; “Oh! Well, welcome to Nicaragua!”


Peace and Love,
Michael

Living the dream in El Recreo

‘El pueblo unido jamás será vencido.’ A people united will never be defeated. This catchy revolutionary slogan pops into my head when I think of Proyecto Generando Vida and all its admirable attempts at uniting the people of El Recreo. The neighborhood is sharply divided, and violence and poverty tend to squash people’s dreams and encourage complacency. But the Project doesn’t give up and continues to be a place where people who desire to rebuild their community or make a better life for their children can work together and keep each other afloat.

The Bancos de Confianza (banks of trust) is, in my biased opinion, the most impressive, subversive (against the crippling social and economic status quo), and overall successful program at the Project. During a mid-year evaluation with the director of the Project, the bank team was given pats on the back, gold stars, and a lot of encouragement to keep up the good work. We were moderately scolded for our sub-par accounting system, which could be an enabler to any corrupt future members of the bank team. It was suggested that we form at least two more groups of women before the end of the year, bringing the total number of women involved up from 200 at the beginning of the year to 300 by this December. Other suggestions included that I be the driver of the Project pickup truck (a role which I gladly stepped into, although I am quite worried about unavoidable encounters with Nicaraguan traffic cops), and that I stay for a third year. I vehemently opposed the latter suggestion and defended myself by pulling the Nicaraguan trump card (I’d love to, but my family would kill me).


Project director Ana María doing a workshop with one of the banks.

Since so much time with the women in the banks is spent dealing with the subject of money, we try to facilitate fun, laughter, and dancing whenever possible. A Spanish man named Emilio, a specialist in cooperative games, spent a whole week meeting with every bank (that is, every group of women, of which there are 9). He did a mixture of childish games, dancing, and group therapy, which had women laughing, crying, yelling, etc. It was wonderful to see the women enjoying and expressing themselves, something that their culture and home life rarely allows. The women of El Recreo need much more than economic assistance. I was grateful to be present while Emilio helped them work out their emotions and bring out their inner child.

A tradition at the Project is to have a field trip for the staff every July. So twenty of us packed our lunches and bathing suits, crammed into a microbus, and set out for the natural hot springs in Boaco, central Nicaragua. As usual I was enamored with the views of an unfamiliar countryside, which was vibrantly green and pulsating with lush vegetation. We got to the hot springs (which does not initially sound tempting when the air temperature is around 100) and spent the day relaxing by the steaming pools, playing in the water, and dancing. It was exceptionally relaxing and a rare chance to hang out with coworkers in a laid back setting.

Coups d’etat and celebrity suicides

Depending on the thoroughness of U.S. media, you may or may not be aware that the President of Honduras was kidnapped from his home by the Honduran military and shipped off to Costa Rica in what everyone (except the perpetrators) has labeled a coup d’etat. Mel Zelaya, the deposed President (who didn’t even get to change out of his pajamas or grab his cowboy hat when he was kidnapped), was trying awfully hard to make major changes to the constitution, which seriously upset a lot of powerful people in Honduras. I definitely question Zelaya’s prudence and commitment to democracy (I do not consider radical and whimsical changes to a constitution to be a good thing), but I also think it’s outrageous that Honduran congressmen and Supreme Court Justices would order the military to force him out of the country. I appreciate the international community’s reaction (“militaries kicking out presidents is not acceptable”) and I appreciate that diplomacy has, to this point, been the main tool for resolving the issue (as opposed to violently reinstating Zelaya). I’m hoping that the new, illegitimate Honduran government will be reasonable in negotiations, and that the instability will not spread to Nicaragua (which also has a president proposing ridiculous changes to its constitution).


Troubling pictures in the news after the coup d´etat in Honduras. Supporters of the ousted president protested outside the heavily guarded presidential palace.


There were a few pictures in the newspapers of soldiers shooing away reporters in the days after the coup.

In other local/regional news, the mayor of Managua and former boxing champion Alexis Arguello committed suicide recently. People loved him, not as a mayor but as a boxer that put Nicaragua on the map, in boxing terms. He is the second Sandinista mayor of the capital city in the last 4 years to drop dead shortly after drifting away from the party line and loyalty to President Ortega…a coincidence? Some Nicaraguans and JVs think not…

Well, I’m 19 months in with 5 months to go. I love it here but I am excited to come home some day and indulge in the many beautiful things America has to offer (national parks, bacon cheeseburgers, milkshakes, baseball games, etc.). Some major holidays are coming up in Nicaragua which may warrant another entry in the next month or so. July 19 is the 30th anniversary of the Sandinista revolution, at which Hugo Chavez of Venezuela and deposed President Mel Zelaya of Honduras are sure to make special appearances. And August 1st is the celebration of Santo Domingo, which includes but is not limited to the palo lucio, the fabled telephone pole lathered in pig fat with prizes at the top for those who dare to climb it. Thanks for reading!

Peace,
Michael Marchesini





Bank women dancing to their heart´s content at a recent celebration!

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.

My beloved Nicaragua

Ay, Nicaragua Nicaragüita, la flor mas linda de mi querer...a line from a love song for this country written by it’s most famous musician, Carlos Mejia Godoy. His brother, Luis Enrique Mejia Godoy, is also quite famous, and it is he whom I got to see perform live! Celebrating the 75th anniversary of the national hero Augusto C. Sandino (countryside rebellion leader against U.S. forces in the 1920s and 30s), Luis played a number of revolutionary and famous patriotic songs- everything from tributes to Sandino, revolutionary battle hymns, songs celebrating the role of women in the 1979 revolution, catchy tunes about typical Nicaraguan food, and songs like Nicaragua Nicaragüita- love songs for a beautiful country. The best part was my former host dad, Don Martin, singing along to every song and his wife, Blanca, telling me how much this music means to him. Don Martin was a Sandinista soldier in the 1980s and fought for two years in the mountains in the north against the U.S.-backed Contras. Luis and his brother Carlos have been writing music since the 70s, and their music, according to Blanca, brings Don Martin back to the mountains and reminds him what he fought for. The concert ended with everyone in the audience (gringos included) singing along to two verses of Nicaragua, Nicaragüita, repeated over and over. The song concludes with the famous line “Pero ahora que ya sos libre, Nicaragüita, yo te quiero mucho mas” (But now that you are free, my beloved Nicaragua, I love you that much more).

While Luis Enrique Mejia Godoy and his world-famous brother Carlos continue to sing about Sandino, the revolution, and the need for peace in their beloved country, life goes on in Barrio El Recreo, somewhat lacking of the revolutionary inspiration that the Mejia Godoy brothers try so hard to rekindle. But El Recreo residents are fighters. I continue to be inspired by the sweat and tears my coworkers put in to the Project to make life better for their community. My direct coworker Grety has been especially inspirational to me lately. A single mother raising three kids and taking care of her nephew as well, working full time and then coming home to cook, clean, and wash clothes by hand, jumping through bureaucratic hoops every two weeks to force her ex-husband to pay child support, Grety maintains and joy and confidence about her that motivates her coworkers and 200 or so bank women whom she sees every week.

Thanks largely in part to the patience and love of people like Grety at work, this year I have really felt like I have a place in the Project. Work started up full time again at the beginning of February. The Project is much smaller this year, after cutting multiple programs due to financial constraints. I feel as though I am out of the training stage in the banks and have my equal share of responsibilities and respect as my two coworkers Grety and Silvio. I finally know the names of most of the women in the two bank groups for which I am responsible (about 65 women total).

I’d like to share two fascinating stories from my work. The first: the slaughter of a pig. Grety, Silvio, and I went to visit a bank woman, Maria Olimpia. When we got to her house she had a bloody apron on, her elderly mother was sitting outside in a wheelchair, and her husband had already killed the pig via axe and tied it upside down. There was a big bowl below the pig to catch its blood, which would later be used to make deep friend bloody rice patties. In two other huge bowls, Maria Olimpia was separating the pig skin (to be deep fried and nibbled upon as Chicharron, which is actually delicious) and the slabs up meat/blubber, which would just be friend and eaten with rice and a tortilla. Her husband picked the pig apart with a machete, carefully dissecting it piece by piece. When all that was left besides the skeleton was the head, lungs, and multi-colored intestines, I got nauseous and had to sit down and stare at the ground for about 10 minutes to collect myself, and then distracted myself by talking about plants with the elderly mother in the wheelchair. We left, and the next woman we visited on the other side of the neighborhood, by total coincidence, served the three of us a huge plate of rice and fried, fatty pig meat. Mmm.

The second story from work is about a horse. This one is not gross. A couple weeks ago an old, scrawny horse sat down next to the Project and slowly died over the course of five days. The horse was owned by an elderly couple who live along the ‘cauce’…in other words, they are extremely, extremely poor. The old couple, Guillermo and Rosa both need crutches to get around and have multiple grandkids to take care of, but they are the only adults in their home. They used the horse to draw a rickety carriage to the market, buy fruits and vegetables, and take them back to the neighborhood to sell. When the horse died, they were out of work. Going against a lot of rules, the bank team decided to facilitate this couple buying a new horse (there is a rule that says a woman must have a recommendation to enter the banks…unfortunately, no one wants to recommend the poorest of the poor). We urged Rosa to join the banks, and last week she was present with 32 other women at the opening of a bank cycle and received a 3,000 cordoba loan ($150) to purchase a new horse. Grety, Silvio, and I walked by her house three days later. No one was home, and the rickety carriage was gone. They were back to work!

In other news, we had a community guilty pleasure activity a few Fridays ago. Using ‘special’ funds, we rejected our basic values of simple living, social justice, and physical health for a night and went to, um, McDonalds. I felt so guilty, but it was so delicious. I even shaved a nice thick mustache and wore my ‘long live democracy and freedom’ shirt to really celebrate the truly American event. Forgive me God, JVI, my body, and all those who work for justice in the world.



Aside from that fluke night we keep quite healthy here. We had our first harvest from our dozens of baby basil plants last night (thanks Mom for the seeds!), and we have a decent compost bin going as well. The oregano and parsley plants are up and coming and the cilantro is stronger than ever. Patrick and I built a ‘hanging garden’, as we have no soil access and very little sun hits the ground in our patio. The homemade shelves get our new garden some much needed sun!


The hanging garden: basil, cilantro, oregano


Our impressive aloe plant...great for sunburns


The compost bins: A 3 gallon water jug wrapped in a Home Depot bag, and an old water filter


Thai basil, one of our three varieties of basil plants

We also have two bikes in the house, one of which works, kind of. I took the decent one to work for the first time on Friday, and I’m hoping to get in the habit of bike commuting two or three times a week. It’s kind of scary, as Managua is not exactly bike friendly. But I’m working on finding the least trafficked routes. It was quicker to commute via bike than it is to commute by bus, and I can get daily exercise without expending extra time! It felt great also to work with energy and a clear head after having exercised in the morning.

So, as you may have noticed, and I hope I gave the right impression, but I am very much enjoying life here. My job is very rewarding and I feel confident and capable at work. I am becoming enamored with Nicaraguan culture, a sort of polar opposite experience of culture shock. And I enjoy very much the little things that bring so much happiness, i.e. gardening, biking to work, and seeing revolutionary musical heroes. Jenna and I are about to complete 15 months of being in Nicaragua, which means only 9 left to go! I’m hoping that things only get better and that I savor every day in this jodido, but beautiful country.

Peace and Love
Michael

A new year/ reflections

My thoughts on the phrase ‘social justice’

When I came to Nicaragua over 13 months ago I believed strongly in fighting and overcoming some of the structures that oppress and dehumanize people here. When I started teaching and tutoring I felt I was in the position of educator and motivator, one who would not only help students pass their classes but also help them swim against the currents of anger and violence that are so ferocious in the neighborhood of El Recreo. As a teacher and tutor I learned many lessons that reformed my notion of social justice in El Recreo, and working in the microlending banks with the women of El Recreo has further transformed that notion. I must admit that as a North American who never in 2 years of JVI will become completely fluent and culturally competent, there is a limit to the tangible effects that I can have in my work. As a foreigner, there are still things that I don’t get about how or why locals do things and what they are saying to me sometimes. That lack of understanding makes it harder for me to be the teacher that steers students toward nonviolence and success or the microlending bank worker that empowers women and lifts them out of poverty.
So if I’m not shaking things up in El Recreo’s social or economic structure, what am I doing? I still believe that social justice is a pivotal piece of what I do here in Nicaragua. But for me, in these 2 years here, social justice is quickly becoming an issue of my relationships with my coworkers and the individual residents of El Recreo. The scope of issues that concern me has steadily narrowed from international to national Nicaraguan issues down to Managua city issues to El Recreo neighborhood issues and finally all the way down to the issues of the bank woman that stays late to confide in me, the former student who I run into in the street, or the family of a coworker. If I do work for social justice (and I believe I do), it is now at the personal level more than anything. In my context right now, social justice is being someone who the bank women can trust in a neighborhood of untrustworthy men. It is being a consistent friend and encourager to former students, a friend and motivator to coworkers, and a humble student of Nicaraguan lifestyle. With this new, micro-level approach to social justice, I am using my talents. I am not an accountant, teacher, or social worker by trade, nor do I posess native spanish fluency. So I offer what I can to the women and children of El Recreo and to the workers of Proyecto Generando Vida; I listen to them, feel for them, encourage them, and accompany them as they carry out their vision of social justice for their own homes and community.

Life as a second-year Jesuit Volunteer

In the early days of December, four wide-eyed compassionate, intelligent, and highly capable U.S. citizens left their homes and came to Managua to begin their 2 years as Jesuit Volunteers. So for a time we squeezed 10 volunteers into one house with six beds; 4 JVs preparing to depart, 2 JVs entering their second year, and 4 newbies. The new volunteers spent much of their time in homestays and in language school, and Jenna and I said our goodbyes to our four community mates of the previous year. They departed on December 19th for the U.S. for the first time in two years. The new community of six has been settling in since the 20th or so, and we had a wonderful celebration of Christmas together, complete with a terribly boring pageant in the neighborhood church and a wonderful dinner of BBQ chicken and pre-packaged mashed potatoes, gravy, and stuffing sent down from the states.






"Jesus the Destroyer", a statue inside our neighborhood church

While the new volunteers got themselves oriented to life in Managua, Jenna and I kept ourselves busy and joyful with visitors. My friend Katie from college dropped in to visit for a few days on her way home from Bolivia, and after Christmas my Mom flew in to begin her whirlwind tour of everything I know in Nicaragua. With the Spanish skills that she’d honed over the past year, my Mom stayed in homestays with the same Nicaraguan families who hosted me in the past, and successfully made friends with all of them! She spent time with my house community, came to work with me one day, made two trips to the market, rode the city busses (slightly more insane than a Seattle city bus), and relaxed at the beach and in the charming city of Granada. It was fun for my coworkers, host families, and community to meet her, and it was wonderful to share with her what my life is like here. Jenna simultaneously had her family visit, and it was a blast finally getting to meet all these family members of hers that I had heard about throughout the last year. The new volunteers also got to tag along a few times for some parent-sponsored meals and fun.




My community in the pool


Patrick drinking a beer underwater

With all the visitors gone, our new community continues the process of settling in. The role of second year volunteer is a complete role reversal for me, but I very much enjoy it. It’s been a reassuring experience now that I’ve had to test my Spanish abilities and knowledge of how things work in Nicaragua more so than I did before. Also, not to speak to soon, as I am sort of on vacation so the stress level is quite low, but I feel in many ways as though I am cresting the hill of culture shock and language frustrations. My friendships with a handful on Nicaraguans (specifically my two closest coworkers and my host family from my neighborhood) have improved dramatically over the last few months, and those strengthening friendships have helped to ease my continual transition into Nicaraguan culture. I feel as though the last 13 months have also paid off in terms of language abilities. After all the frustrations of understanding 90% of the words someone says but not having a clue what their point is, I finally feel as though I can fully express myself and fully comprehend most people with whom I speak Spanish. Gracias a Dios. Por fin. All that being said, I am excited for this upcoming year. Work starts full time at the beginning of February. I eagerly anticipate a year with minimal culture shock and miscommunications.

Peace and Love to all,
Michael

Cumplirle al Pueblo es Cumplirle a Dios

Within a week I will complete one year of living in Nicaragua, and four new Jesuit Volunteers will arrive to begin their two years here. Life is quite hectic. Four of my six community mates will be returning home to the U.S. in mid December, Jenna and I will coordinate orientation activities for the new volunteers, and work will be filled with cultural celebrations and end-of-the-year evaluations. The past few months have had their ups and downs, and life here has continued to be challenging, stressful, and rewarding all at the same time.

Los Bancos de Confianza

Life in the microlending banks at the Project in El Recreo continues to be a wonderful experience. I am assuming more responsibilities and integrating myself into the bank team, and many of the women in the banks are very warm and welcoming to me. Often on house visits the women gift me fresco (juice) and helado (popsicles in a bag). Most of the women have a plethora of adorable grandchildren running around their houses, so while I miss my former students a lot the banks serve as a good opportunity for playing with kids! The emotional burden of working in the banks, however, is quite heavy. These women are exceptionally impoverished and always teeter on the brink of health and economic crises. Many of the men in their lives either abandoned them with many children to care for, or they are still around but spend all the money on booze and are abusive to the women and their children. Above all I am very grateful to be a male figure in the lives of these women that seeks to protect and empower them as opposed to violate and dehumanize them.

“Poder para el Pueblo”, “Todos Contra Ortega”

"Power to the people", "Everyone Against Ortega". These are the slogans of the two opposing parties in Managua’s recent mayoral elections, posted on billboards at least every 100 yards on Managua’s main roads. The election was between the Sandinistas (The leftist ruling party of President Ortega) and the PLC (the right-wing opposition). For weeks leading up to the elections streets were blocked off with demonstrations, mostly pro Sandinista. Many people who dislike President Ortega and his tendencies of consolidating power and slowly moving Nicaragua in the direction of a dictatorship reluctantly unified and supported the PLC opposition candidate. Pre-election propaganda was suffocating, and accusations of electoral fraud were made weeks before the election even happened. The Sandinistas control the Electoral Commission, the Supreme Court, and most election observers and ballot counters were Sandinista supporters, so a fraudulent Sandinista victory was suspected from the beginning.
It turned out that the Sandinista mayoral candidate (a former boxing champion with a middle-school education) defeated the PLC candidate (a Harvard-educated businessman) by a 52% to 46% margin. The result was heavily disputed as ballots were presumed to be miscounted and many were found in the trash. Sandinista supporters took to the streets to “defend the vote”, and PLC supporters took the streets to demand a recount. The situation quickly became depressing. Fights broke out between demonstrators and people were beaten and stabbed to death, police violently cracked down on protestors, journalists were assaulted, major intersections were blocked off, cars were set on fire, etc. Sandinista caravans were a common sight; 10 or 15 school busses packed with people waving their party flags out the window on their way to the major intersections where the demonstrations were held. The political demonstrations and violence continued for 2 weeks until a recount produced the same result. The Sandinistas then held a huge party in the streets and everything finally died down. Now the boxing champion and protégé of President Ortega is the next mayor of the capital, and a lot of Nicaraguans are deeply concerned about their country’s deteriorating democracy and propensity toward violence.

Barrio El Recreo

El Recreo has seen a disturbing rise in violence and despair, pretty much proportionally to that of the rest of Managua. Surprise police drug raids happen way too often within a one block radius of the Project, and gang violence is getting a little out of control. Last weekend was one of the worst in years according to my coworkers who live in the neighborhood. They said that you couldn’t sleep Friday or Saturday night because of the noise of machetes scraping pavement, yelling, and gunshots. Two youth were killed over the weekend from machete and gunshot wounds, and a number of others wounded. The father of one of my former students was hospitalized with machete wounds, and one of the boys killed was the next door neighbor of my coworker. The gangs in El Recreo are territorial, and when pandilleros from El Recreo Sur cross the road into El Recreo Norte, 20 year old boys machete each other to death. The nuns in El Recreo said that the saddest part of it all was that 10 years ago a lot of these gang members frequented the Project. The same kids that went to class together in the morning and sat next to each other during lunch at the Project are all of the sudden arch enemies because they live 3 blocks apart. Lucky for the three of us Jesuit Volunteers who work at the Project, the violence has mostly been on weekend nights between gang members, so we’ve been immune because we’re never in the wrong place at the wrong time. But the senselessness and brutality of young men with nothing to do but drink and harass people does concern me. As Dona Aura (the cook in the Comedor) put it, if good people in El Recreo back down because of fear, then violence and recklessness take over. What the Project offers, she says, is an alternative to that violence for the women and children of El Recreo. Hopefully the Project can teach kids the basic values of caring for one another and empower women to stand up against the violence in their homes.

JVI Staff in Town

Well, we Jesuit Volunteers had the pleasure recently of receiving our Program Coordinator, the Executive Director of JVI, and the President of the Jesuit Volunteer Corps here for a couple weeks. We had a 5 day end-of-the-year retreat with our Program Coordinator Kristen in which we stayed in a freezing, beautiful mountain village and reflected on our last year together. It was kind of a check in on cultural immersion, simple living, social justice, and community life. Megan and Kevin, the respective directors of JVI and JVC then came down to check out what we do here and spend some time in all of our work sites. It was wonderful to get some encouragement and support and share our lives and experiences here with the people who do all the office work and coordination necessary for us to do what we do here in Nicaragua.

Happy Thanksgiving, and thanks for reading!

Peace and Love,
Michael







Me with Kevin (President of JVC), Kristen (JVI Program Coordinator), and Megan (Exec. Director of JVI), in the Casa de la Mujer during their visit to the banks in El Recreo.


Me and Maria Hernandez during a weekly bank meeting with the women. Myself and the other women sitting down are "cobrando", collecting the weekly payments from the women and putting some of their money into savings.


One of our final exercises during our retreat was to prepare a sort of prayer/reflection for the four volunteers who will be returning to the states in a few weeks. We set up a little altar which we used to express hopes and fears for the major changes coming up.


Beautiful sunset and view of the countryide and volcanoes in the distance during our retreat.

Los cambios

I see change as an opportunity to break with the old way of doing things and discover something better. Currently my life is defined by change, and I am optimistic. For 10 months as a teacher and tutor at Proyecto Generando Vida in Barrio El Recreo I have struggled daily to be a quality educator and role model and to inspire and love my students. Considering the circumstances of your average classroom in this neighborhood, I think I’ve done a fairly good job. But the struggle has been overwhelming. Ten hour work days packed with stress and gut-wrenching emotions, with little spare time to process, reflect, and rest has caused me to run a physical and emotional deficit. This deficit eventually came to a head in the form of crisis (I’m in solidarity with the U.S. economy), and I missed the better part of a week of work due to various illnesses. As a result, my director and I decided that, for my own health, I ought to take a little time off from teaching. I decided to take it a step further and consider a career change within the Project.

As of now I am a sort of intern in the microlending banks at Proyecto Generando Vida. I view the microlending banks as a much less stressful option than teaching (I would deal with rational adult women), very meaningful (empowering women), and enjoyable (there is a lot of dealing with numbers and visiting women in their homes, both of which I love to do). For the next few weeks I will be working half time, learning about the banks while leaving time for much needed rest and reflection. If all goes well, my hope is to insert myself into the bank team full time in November and continue in that role for my final year in JVI.

There are roughly 170 women of El Recreo involved in the banks, and they are divided into groups of about 25. Each group of 25 or so is called a bank. So there are 7 ‘banks’. The women are obviously poor, and the loans are quite small. The idea is to give women loans that they can invest in a small business and make enough money to pay back the loan and make some extra income for basic needs and maybe even for savings. The small businesses are generally tortilla selling on the street and small ‘ventas’ that sell junk food and juice. The banks do not lift the women out of poverty or give them enough extra income to build a house, but the loans do help the women keep their small businesses afloat and provide them with enough income to keep their children clothed and fed. The banks are called “bancos de confianza”, or banks of trust. Solidarity is encouraged among the women. If one woman in a bank cannot pay back her loan, the burden lies on the rest of the women to help her pay it. The sense of friendship and community that is built among the women is pretty impressive.

I just completed my first week in the banks, and I love it. The women gave me an unexpectedly warm welcome, and I work closely with a team of 3 coworkers who are wise, loving, and funny. The job is diverse- in the same day I can be in a bank meeting with a group of women (giving them the loans or charging them their weekly payments), doing paperwork in the office, or walking all over El Recreo visiting women in their homes. I have a lot of hopes for my time in the banks. Empowering impoverished and often abused women with a sense of community and with money to invest in a small business is important work. I loved the workers on the bank team back when I was teaching, and I am thrilled to spend my days with them. As a teacher I very much worked alone, but in the banks I am constantly in conversation with the other team members, so friendships and Spanish proficiency ought to improve dramatically. I also love playing with numbers and money, and I feel more gifted at that than classroom management.

I very much believe that working for a more just and loving world ought to be a struggle, as there are powerful forces of greed, selfishness, and violence that need to be overcome. Yet the struggle that I have fought for the last 10 months in the classroom was a little too much of a struggle, to the point that it was unhealthy. I felt as if I was working against the grain, fighting off one obstacle after another just to hold my class together. I hope and believe that the struggle for justice on behalf of the women of El Recreo is one for which I am more naturally suited.

Aside from work, a lot of fun things have happened in the last few months here. Community life and excursions are also a big part of my life. Instead of writing about those things right now I will include some pictures, somewhat randomly, to help depict my life here in Nicaragua. Thanks for reading and for all the support (verbal, written, or moral support) you have given me!



My community, on a week long retreat at the beach.


This was my morning class in the comedor. I tried to catch them in a moment of diligent in-class work the best I could. While the class was so tough that it caused me unimaginable stress and exhaustion, I feel that in the last few months with these students my love for them grew remarkably, as did their respect and affection for me.


Every day I took the kids out to the ´cancha´ (a crumbling cement basketball court) to play soccer for 15 minutes, or for 1 hour on Fridays. This is Juan. He prefers his sandals on his hands.


Josh, James, and I posing as Nicaraguan males.


July 19 was revolution day...free Sandinista hats for everyone...I couldn´t resist.


Mariela Reyes and Myrna Lopez Rizo. Mariela teaches computer classes at the Project, Myrna is the coordinator of the Library. Mariela blows me away with her strength and the respect she earns and deserves. I would consider her the spark at Proyecto Generando Vida. She encourages, fires people up, loves unconditionally, organizes women in the community, and stands up for other people´s rights. Myrna is my closest friend at the Project.


Silvio Sanchez and Doña Aura. Silvio is the coordinator of the Banks (now my supervisor and coworker) and has been at the Project for 14 years. He is the only other male at the project besides me, and is a mentor in a sense. Doña Aura is the elderly, wise woman that everyone respects, even the kids. She has been around since day 1, and she cooks for 120 kids every day. She has a story about everything from child psychology to what life was like during the war 25 years ago.


James and I climbed Volcán Telica, a beautiful hike with a surreal crater and beautiful views of the countryside.


The volcano is very active and the steam unpleasant to inhale. Upon approaching the crater one could hear the steam shooting out of a vent deep in the crater. We threw rocks in the crater and timed the fall to see how deep and steap it was...very deep and steap.


Grety, a fighter of a woman and a member of the bank team, with Doña Aura.


Jeffry, my best student, and unrivaled soccer champion in my class. He dropped out of school after repeating 4th grade multiple times. His brilliance astounds me...he is more advanced than my 6th graders and can solve a Sudoku puzzle almost as quick as I can.


Mary and I rocking out at home.


July 19, the day that everyone celebrates the liberation of Nicaragua from a repressive dictatorship. Unfortunately, the celebration was somewhat hijacked by the ruling party who used it as a campaign rally. The colors black and red are meant to symbolize the revolutionary victory...the pink is the FSLN´s new color, and in a sense symbolic of revolutionary politics being replaced with corruption and power hoarding.


In the classroom doing some warm up activities with three gems: Jose Daniel, Junieth, and Valeria.



Fellow Jesuit Volunteers from Belize stopped in for a visit!


My youngest and cutest student, Darling, preferring the swing over soccer.