INJOCRUM

Today is my last day of classes at my school, INJOCRUM (Instituto Nacional José de la Cruz Mena).  I’m actually pretty sad to be leaving the kids… though at the beginning of my service I sort of dreaded going to school, by the end I finally found my groove as a teacher and going to school became the only thing that I really enjoyed about being here.

Here’s where I walked daily to get from the market where I got off the bus to my school.  This is also where Marvin and company always harassed me:

This is the outside area of my school; this is before first hour when kids are just hanging out, playing soccer, and buying snacks:

Here’s the marching band at a competition my first year at INJOCRUM.  I never liked all the class we missed for the band to practice, but I did like their cheese grater instruments. 

I spent many, many hours in the teachers lounge since my teaching schedules always had a lot of free hours in them.  The barred doors in the first picture go to the principal’s office, the secretary’s office, and the vice principal’s office.  The painting in the second picture is of José de la Cruz Mena, the musician for whom the school is named.

These are some of the students I had my very first school year here, in first year (7th grade) in the morning with Francis.  The one in the middle is Eddyson, and he was one of my favorites:

This is my IV E (fourth year, section “E”) class from last year.  This class first made me enjoy coming to school, and I was legitimately sad when I no longer got to teach them.  They were all good kids that participated in class, did their homework, and laughed and my corny attempts to make jokes.

Here’s III G (third year, section “G”) from this year.  In the first picture they’re learning directions.  I had many of these same students last year in second year as well.

This is Rafael, one of my favorite kids that I had both last year and this year.  He loves to ask me how to say new phrases and then practices them on me later (like, “Teacher, welcome to our class!” “I am finished!” and “See you tomorrow, teacher!”).  Here he is showing off the chicken skeleton he made for science class.  They asphyxiated the chicken so as not to break any of its bones, and then he carefully disassembled it and glued it back together.  I think it’s really gross, but also pretty interesting.

Here’s Rafael’s class, III I, learning prepositions of place.

Finally, I’ll also miss the teachers.  This picture is from a staff meeting where we also had a dance competition to practice our solidarity.  This is Lila, who is an amazing seamstress and sews most of her own clothes (and also brings clothes and purses to school to sell to other teachers).  At the far left is Iris who took a long time to warm up to me, but eventually she learned my name (“Holly Regan, but not like Ronald Reagan, that’s it, right?”) and we became friends.

When the last bell rings at 5:45, the kids come pouring out of the gate to the school.  I rarely get out of school quickly enough to see the whole mess of students leaving to go home; these are a few stragglers that took more than 30 seconds to get out of school.

I never thought I’d say it, but I’ll actually miss being a teacher here.

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Botellón

One of the many chores that I get roped into just because I'm a man (see also taking the dogs out late at night, talking to strange people at the door, and cooking) is the weekly water bottle run. In our old house there was a pharmacy with water just down the street, but once we moved the closest place with water was the supermarket in the park, so I had to balance it on my bike. I'm pretty sure that by now with all of the frescos and helados we've had we are more or less immune to whatever is floating in the water, but it's nice knowing for sure that the water is clean.

Now we're living close again to Farmacia Carolina, but only for a short time to take advantage of the close access to clean water. I'm not sure we'll be able to find a place to live in the US that has 5-gallon jugs of water easily accessible by bike and/or foot. I guess that's just another sacrifice that I'm willing to make.

P.S. 1 week from today we'll be back in the States (and with any luck, we'll have Dorita in tow).

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Nicole

We’ve said before that you don’t really choose to become friends with other PCVs—it just happens. Nicole is one of the people in our group that we probably would have been friends with anyway. We’re usually the ones that stay at home rather than go out and party, and I mean this in the nicest way possible, but we’re all a little boring.

Nicole and I lived on the same block during training and since her Spanish was already pretty perfect when we got here, I would go to her for homework help, and during the week we would make frequent trips to Eskimo.

Even though now we live 5 hours apart, we still see her pretty often because she can stay here when she needs to pass through Managua or just needs a rest from San Dionisio. We went to visit her once, and that was enough for us. She and Dora are best buddies, too, and Dora treats her just like family by eating her underwear.

I think one time Nicole came to visit us and asked, "So... where are all of your friends?" I know she didn't mean anything by it, because that's just the way Nicole is. She makes friends with everyone everywhere she goes. We tried to explain that it's different being married in a big city, but ultimately she was a pretty good example of how to be a good volunteer. Everyone in San Dionisio will remember Neeecole for years and years, and if the goal is to give people in the host country a positive impression of Americans, the Peace Corps couldn't have chosen a better volunteer than Nicole.

Nicole is moving back home to Florida, and since everyone here assumes that everything not Nueva York or Virginia is just a part of Miami, we liked knowing someone that came pretty darn close to coming from the real thing. The whole family will miss her visits, and our tijera just won't know what to do without her. Even though Palo Alto and Lake Worth are pretty far apart, Palo Alto and Miami are just a short drive away (or so my neighbors just told me).

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9. Ten Things I Love about You (Nicaragua)

Though I listed yesterday the things I won't miss about Nicaragua, that doesn't mean it was all bad; there are plenty of things I already begin to feel nostalgic about, and we still have a few days left here!  In fact, the things that I disliked yesterday are exactly the same things I like and will miss about the place:


10.  Daily Life – For the last two years we haven’t had to worry about jobs, health care, or (until recently) housing. In the economic security sense, it will probably have been one of the least stressful periods of our adult lives. Our main teaching duties only require about 20 hours of actual work a week, and if we wanted to, we could just do that and spend the rest reading books or playing bocce ball.

9.  The Weather:  While six months of the year are a little too rainy or hot, the other six are pretty nice.  In December through February you can be guaranteed sunny, warm (but not too hot) days with a nice breeze.  It goes without saying that we never have to worry about snow or ice or being too cold, and it’s been nice not to have to worry about heat or air conditioning in our houses during this time.  We’ve become very finely tuned thermometers; I feel comfortable between about 82 and 88 degrees; any cooler and I feel cold, and any warmer and I feel hot. 

8. Food – We’ve eaten our share of gallo pinto, tejadas, and arroz de leche; we can’t honestly say we don’t enjoy the food here.  It’s also so much more convenient here—there are helados and ice cream and snacks for sale in nearly every house, and people go door to door selling other goods or come into buses to sell cheap, yummy food while we’re traveling.

7.  Inexpensive Wares – I think it goes without saying that on a Peace Corps volunteer’s budget, cheaper is better.  Beautiful hand-woven hammocks cost $10 and original paintings can be had for $5.  Additionally, people go door to door selling most things you could ever need, from food to universal remote controls to pillows.

6.  Transportation – Public transportation is inexpensive and prolific. We’ve been without a car for two years, but we only really regret it occasionally. Taking the bus is inexpensive and convenient to and from Masaya almost all waking hours (and several hours before waking).  Additionally, we can take a cab anywhere within our town for 50 cents or a ruta for 15 cents—I am quite sure we’ll never see such cheap transportation again, especially not in Palo Alto.

5. The Critters – Obviously Dora has earned a special place in our heart, along with other neighborhood dogs, little lizards, and Dora’s friends like Brown Dog, Luna, and Colacho.

4.  Culture – It is still kind of a shock to meet grown men living with their mothers without shame, but it is nice that strong family ties are important in Nicaraguan culture.  There’s also a distinct culture here in terms of holidays and celebrations, food, music, and beliefs—it’s very different from the States but sort of comforting at the same time.

3.  Being Different – It’s always easy for our friends to find out where we live once they get close enough because they can just ask the neighbors where the gringos live. Being different also gives us a chance to share our culture and ensures that no taxi ride passes in silence.

2.  Spanish – It’s great to know another language and we’ve learned a lot. Over the last week with the landlady drama our Spanish seems to have improved greatly. Also, English lacks some really useful phrase and words; some things like como no and fachento are just better in Spanish, and (with each other at least) I think we’ll continue to use them long after we leave here.

1.  People – We have made great friends in Nicaragua that we’ll be sad to leave, especially our counterparts, neighbors, volunteers, and Peace Corps staff.  We’ll be talking more about some of our closest friends and Nica family in our last few days here.

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10. Ten Things I Hate about You (Nicaragua)

One of the things I think I fear most about returning home after Peace Corps is having to answer the inevitable question, "So did you like it?"

Peace Corps' motto is that it's "the toughest job you'll ever love." It was without a doubt tough, and we're still not sure what the experience meant to us, let alone sure how to condense it down to a sentence or two to explain it to friends and acquaintances. Part of the difficulty is that it's been quite a roller coaster, often with lots of emotions even within one day. We've celebrated little victories and felt helpless during little crises.

Now that we overcame our housing crisis, I feel much more at peace with my Peace Corps service; though it was really stressful at the time, I'm really happy it helped us get closer to Romel and Azalia, and I'm happy we are back in our old neighborhood with people we know well.

That doesn't mean I have a wistful, romantic view of everything that happened here, though; many of the things that I love most days are things that I hated on others. As our time here fades, I think we'll begin to forget many of the things that were so difficult about being here, or that made us want to pack our bags and head home. In case we're feeling sad about leaving, here are some of the things that we won't miss:

10. Daily Life: Even the simplest tasks are just much more complicated here. Seemingly pleasant things like going to a restaurant or ordering a pizza can be complicated, un-fun tasks, and these little things seem to happen nearly every day. Even venturing out of the house can be difficult as we have to avoid the crazy drivers of Ministry of Health trucks, people zooming down the streets in their motorcycles, and other everyday hazards.

9. The Weather: It's unfortunately that Nicaragua only has two seasons since one of them is decidedly annoying. It rains a lot during October. During March right as the rainy season is beginning, it is really hot and downright miserable.

8. Food: No matter how good food may look, there could be trouble lurking. We've imported more boxes of Kraft Mac & Cheese than I'd care to count, and even the most basic supplies can suddenly disappear. Outside the home, our options are limited to pizza or gallo pinto, both of which can get a little old.

7. Inexpensive Wares: Stuff here is cheap, mostly in the "poor quality" sense of the word. Most of our Nicaraguan possessions seems to have a two year lifespan and are now giving out: handles are falling off pans and pots now have holes, clothes we bought here (even from the nice mall in Managua) are falling apart, and most recently our prized plastic furniture started giving out:

 6. Transportation: I will never miss being stuck in a tiny microbus intended for a dozen people that has 25 people in it with no ventilation because all the windows are closed because it's sprinkling. During the strike there was no transportation and we were stuck, and we also really hate being overcharged in taxis or buses.

5. The Critters: We've had a lot of critter encounters during our time here. Lately our most vicious enemies have been scorpions, culminating with me getting stung by a scorpion in my arm pit at 2 in the morning a few weeks back. Eww.

4. Culture: It's hard to live in a culture that's not your own, and as much as we try to integrate and accept it, about some things we just have to agree to disagree. The machista culture that's so accepted here just isn't cool, I don't like that people make things up instead of just saying, "I don't know," and politics here caused a lot of uncomfortable situations. Another thing we never came to accept is the different views on personal space and privacy--it's perfectly acceptable for people to blast their music any time, even if it's the Alvin and the Chipmunks birthday song over and over at 5 in the morning.

3. Being different: Missouri isn't known for its striking diversity, and I looked just like everyone else there, so coming to Nicaragua was a double whammy: we came to a place even more homogenous than our own home, and we were totally different from all those other homogenous people in appearance, culture, and speech. People make lots of assumptions about us (like that we're rich, stupid gringos that can't speak Spanish) and it's impossible to blend in and do anything anonymously.

2. Spanish: Related to number 10, any little thing becomes more difficult when it has to be done in a different language. I am not a fan of the usted/vos distinctions or preterit and imperfect split, and a lot of people pretend not to understand what we say even though we're pronouncing the words just fine.

1. People: Some people I just won't miss. We won't really miss the people who tried to take advantage of our volunteerism, people who throw rocks at dogs, the cobradors and other vendors who charge us more because they think we're rich and/or don't know any better, or people who steal stuff from us, and I don't think we'll be sending "We Miss You" cards to our landlady anytime soon.

The bad things are often easier to list and recall because they happen every day and stick out in our minds, and I don't think it would have been fair for anyone to expect that we would love everything about this place and our time here.  Overall, though, I think the good probably outweighs to bad. I don't want to end on a negative thought, but I promise that tomorrow I will have a list of the 10 things we will be sad to leave behind.

With only ten days left, I think we'll make it!

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