Friday, September 18, 2009

So, when starting this I was worried that I would grow lazy and not follow up on it.  That seems to be exactly what has happened.  In fact, despite some really great experiences I have had, I have not written a post in over a month.  Ouch.  That being said, there are two separate trips I made that need to be addressed.  The first is a trip I made with my program about a month ago to the Caribbean Coast of Nicaragua which, for all intents and purposes, is another country.  The second thing I would like to talk a bit about is a construction project similar to Habitat for Humanity that I helped in over the long holiday weekend we just had here in Nica.

To start, about a month ago the other three students here, our director, his assistant, his friend and I set out for the Atlantic Coast of Nicaragua.  Our director wanted us to take the overland route to the coast so that we could appreciate the inaccessibility of the region.  The lack of infrastructure being one of the reasons the region is so separated from the rest of the country.  We left Managua by bus at 9 o'clock at night and rode the bus to the end of the rode, arriving 6 hours later in a town called El Rama.  Although we had reached the end of the highway, we were still two hours from the coast.  In order to travel the rest of the way, we had to take a boat down a river.  So, we waited in El Rama until the boat left a 5:30 in the morning.  What a night.  The boat was a panga, which basically is a glorified canoe with an outboard motor.  Unfortunately, it is rainy season in Nicaragua and the Caribbean Coast here happens to be one of the wettest places on the planet.  That being said, our pangas lacked roofs.  In lieu of a roof, we were forced to hold a large plastic tarp over our heads for nearly the entire journey.  After more than two hours in the panga we arrived in Bluefields wet, tired and with a general malaise.  Grateful to finally have made it to the coast, we still had to make the final leg of our journey.  For this, we had to take another panga, in similar conditions, up the coast.  We finally arrived at our destination Laguna de las Perlas.  Or so we thought.  After arriving in the town, exhausted and drenched, we found out that we still had to take a ride from the only vehicles in town, tiny three-wheeled taxis to the community we would be staying.  FINALLY, after 13 hours of traveling we arrived in the indigenous community of Awas, inhabited by Miskito Indians.

Now, for a little background history to explain the reason that the Atlantic Coast is so removed from the rest of Nicaragua.  When the Spanish colonized Nicaragua, the focused on the Pacific side, arriving from Panama.  When they arrived from the Caribbean, they entered through the Río San Juan which led to Lake Nicaragua and from there they continued to Granada, merely passing through the easter half in boat.  Although they launched some expeditions through this part of the country, they found the terrain to be too difficult to merit a concerted effort at civilization.  So, the area, more or less, west of Lake Nicaragua remained untouched by the Spanish.

Eventually, Caribbean pirates realized the value of this land that had a variety of navigable rivers that could be accessed from the sea, and used them as hideouts.  The pirates used this part of the land to gather forces, rest and do whatever pirates did (I imagine some rum-swilling was involved).  After some time, the English took note of what was happening and saw the strategic importance of the area as a means to check the ambitions of the Spanish Crown.  So, England set up a parallel colony in the western half of Nicaragua so that the Pacific side was ruled by the Spanish and the Atlantic side was ruled by the English.

This division explains not only the inaccessibility of the Atlantic Coast but cultural divisions as well.  The English brought two important things when they arrived, their language and their African slaves.  Although there is some speculation on how the people of African origin arrived in Nicaragua--some say they arrived as freed slaves from other Caribbean nations, some say they were brought by the British--there is probably truth in both.  As a result, the most common language in the Atlantic Coast is English and a large percentage, probably a majority, though it is changing of late, is of African origin.  To this day, the people of the Atlantic Coast refer to those of the Pacific region as "Spaniards," an interesting remnant from the colonial times.  For this, the Caribbean Coast feels more like a Caribbean island than a Central American country.  The language spoken today has, like in other Caribbean nations, steadily grown apart from English and is now Creole.  It was difficult for me to understand the language, but every once in a while I would understand a complete phrase and be reminded that it was derived from English.  This realization was usually accompanied by a big stupid grin.
Apart from a the culture with African roots, there is also a strong presence of indigenous culture in the Atlantic Coast region of the country.  This is because of the delayed and never quite complete colonization of the area.  To be sure, complete communities of Miskito and Sumo indians remain and still speak their native tongue (I think the language has changed over the years but I'm not sure to what extent so I'll just leave it at that).  As I mentioned, this portion of the country was left relatively untouched for an extended period of time, allowing the indigenous communities to retain their native customs.  At the same time, indigenous people that resisted the Spanish steadily moved eastward avoiding them and remaining in the Caribbean region where they could live fairly peacefully.

After finally reaching the coast, we were able to see one of these indigenous communities firsthand.  We stayed in a Miskito community called, Awas.  The community is situated on ancestral lands that can not be touched by anyone outside of the tribe.  Growing up near the Leech Lake Indian Reservation, I found this very interesting.   The people we spoke with were fiercely proud and devoted to their land and showed absolutely no interest in selling it, despite the fact that it could probably be converted in prime tourist real estate.  Hearing this reminded me that somewhere out there, there is justice, if only a little bit.

The differences between these people and the "Spaniards" from the Pacific region were drastic.  First of all, our host, Guillermo, was learning Spanish as his third language.  Like all of the members of his community, his first language is Miskito.  In order to communicate with his neighbors, mostly Creoles, it made more sense for him to learn English, second.  Aside from linguistics, the state of mind is different as well.  We had the opportunity to speak with the community leader and the self-professed historian.  This discussion, was fascinating.  The two men talked of their desire of more autonomy.  The people of the Atlantic Coast feel as though they are not represented in Managua and that their concerns and needs are dismissed as unimportant.  This is probably more than just a bit of truth in this.  However, they continued to say that the reason that Managua does not want to grant more autonomy is that they want to keep and exploit the natural resources the region has to offer.  The lands here are fertile, the fishing industry is potent, there are many fine woods and there even is gold in the area.  For this, the people of the Atlantic Coast have been fighting a reluctant government for 30 years and it appears that more autonomy is not on the way any time soon.  The final topic, and the most surprising, was the statement made by one of the gentleman that Somoza was better.  This was absolutely astonishing to hear.  Somoza, the dictator, was preferable to the current government.  The reason given was that he left the region and its resources to the people.  This is just further evidence of the distance both physically and metaphorically between the people of the two coasts.  The Atlantic Coast was left alone by Somoza; so much so that not even the atrocities reached these quaint shores.

The stay in Awas was a real experience.  We slept outside and lived without running water for a day and a night.  We got to see the community firsthand and we were shown around and told of the daily routine.  The community was small and the conditions were impoverished.  It proved to be yet another of what can be best described as "poverty tourism."  Often times people find themselves in these communities and it proves to be an eye-opening experience.  However, when we visit these we know that in a few days we will return to a life of comfort.  It is difficult and even makes you feel guilty to leave.  What you are left with is a realization of the situation of the majority of Nicaraguans.  Nicaragua is the second-poorest nation in the Western Hemisphere and experiencing how these people live saddens you and makes you feel guilty.  It makes you feel guilty because you can stack your hardships against the reality that these people face daily and you see that your life has consisted of nothing but puppies, sunshine, and rainbows.  

Leaving Awas left some strong feelings.  As I already mentioned, we were leaving the members of the community that had been incredibly hospitable, opening their doors and sharing their food to continue their lives while we continued on to two days of relaxation and the beach.  We left Awas via Panga and caught a plane from Bluefields to Corn Island that lies some distance off the coast.  From Corn Island we took another boat to Little Corn Island to relax after a tough journey.  The islands are basically large tourist sites and this was exactly what we needed.  Aside from a run-in with an incredibly enthusiastic protestant minister and his love of christian reggaeton, the only point of interest was that one day before our arrival a ship full of drugs had been stopped on the island.  Drug-runners, from Colombia mostly, use the Corn Islands are stop-over points on their trips to the U.S.  As I have already talked about, the Atlantic Coast is somewhat forgotten by the government and this extends to law enforcement.  Apparently these guys were really bad drug smugglers and got caught.  We never found out what happened because we were too busy relaxing.

For our return trip, we avoided any pangas and buses.  We flew directly from Corn Island to Managua.  Landing in the city was quite a relief.  Although we had a good time in the Caribbean region of the country, it was nice to settle back into settled life.  We learned a lot and experienced a lot and for this the trip was well worth all the hardships.

Monday, August 3, 2009

Comida Nica

When living abroad, one of the first questions you hear is: How is this food?  So I feel it necessary to address.

The easiest way to classify Nicaraguan food would be to call it comfort food.  No big flavors, not much spice, and not even a whole lot of options, but food that nonetheless leaves you feeling better.  A typical Nica meal--as the photo to the right demonstrates--consists of: some sort of meat--best when grilled, rice, beans and plantains.  In the photo, it appears that the plantains are boiled, which is probably the worst way to have them.  I prefer them mashed into patties and fried.  Mmmm.  They are sweeter than potatoes but with the same starchiness.  With a little salt, they are quite good. 

Although I do enjoy the food, it would be nice to have a bit of variety.  Rice and beans, or gallo pinto as it is known in Central America, literally accompanies every meal.  I still enjoy eating gallo pinto, but I'm not sure how long that will last, however, it is entirely possible that I will never tire of them.  I mean, rice and beans have been feeding humans for millenia.

This next part may sound like a joke, but I assert it in all seriousness.  Nicafood does wonders for the digestive system.  To be sure, after three weeks in Nicaragua, I am sure that my digestive system is more regular than that of Jamie Lee Curtis.  I have a standing appointment with the porcelain god following either lunch or dinner, depending, of course, on home field advantage.  Before my arrival, I was worried about diarrhea and digestive irregularities that often accompany a change in diet; but quite the opposite has happened.  

Finally, Nicafood is even more enjoyable when paying the bill.  Last Friday me and the other students were looking for a place to have lunch when a street vendor beckoned us forward.  We continued to have an excellent and filling meal that was completed by an excellent cup of Jugo de Pitalla, which comes from the fruit of a cactus.  The final price was 50 córdobas which is $2.50.  I have even had a complete meal for $1.50.  Just this morning, I found myself dissatisfied with my options for breakfast, and with nothing to do during the day, I ventured to the nearest fruit stand.  Once at the stand I bought a heaping bowl of fruit and a bag (yes, a bag) of juice for  a whopping one dollar.  Over the weekend, at a similar fruit stand I bought 5 bananas for, I promise you this is true, 20 cents.  I will most certainly never get tired of this. 

In other news, tomorrow morning I will be leaving Managua for an entire week of travels and explorations, all thanks to the Sandinistas in their attempt to save a dime and cut the school year short a week, conveniently giving me a week free of obligations.  Nice.  I will have updates and photos.

Thursday, July 23, 2009

Tuesday, July 21, 2009

Bienvenido

To whom it may concern,

I have officially entered the blogosphere.  I had resolved to start one of these hum-dingers in anticipation of my semester abroad in Nicaragua.  However, as I am lazy, I am just getting around to it now.  

I have already wasted many valuable writing topics.  Namely, initial responses to the city of Managua, including, but not limited to: horse-drawn carts on the street, the absence of traffic laws, the paucity of safe-looking areas and the general uncleanliness of a third-world capital city. 

The city is bastante (nice, huh?) chaotic and upon first impression, I decided that I would never walk through it by myself.  Finally over the initial culture shock and confident enough to walk through the city by myself--so long as it is daylight--I am beginning to familiarize myself with the city and what it has to offer.

Managua is a vibrant city and I am starting to find that it offers an insight into Nicaraguan culture as a whole.  Whether I am on the street, in the market or the only chele (gringo) on the bus, I am treated with respect, courtesy and always greeted with a smile, even if it sometimes is a curious smile.  

This is a brief introduction to what I plan to use this blog for.  It is meant mostly to be a means of communicating my experiences and findings to people that care--if said people even exist--without having to overburden myself with sending e-mails.  Heaven forbid I should devote time to any of you, personally.  I plan to write publish a post describing the 30th anniversary of the Sandinista Revolution sometime later.  But if I don't, owing to my general laziness, ask me about and I'll give you all the deetz.  

Until then, I'm going to continue to keep it real in el tercero mundo and I'll try to keep the posts coming.  Hasta luego.