I've been convinced
Nicaragua is not in central time. Instead it's in its own unique time zone in which hours are minutes, and minutes are seconds
This has to be true
How else can I explain how five weeks have flown by?
Everyday I continue to be amazed at the fact that I am living in this country.
It really does feel like a dream.
Part of living here as a college student is of course experiencing the night life. Much time has passed since I first have gone out dancing here, but I thought it was important to mention a key thing.
American music is alive and well in this country.
Maybe this is obvious. I knew before coming here that the United States influence is present here but it is quite a different thing when you're out with friends, in Spanish speaking country listening to Brittney Spears and Christina Aguilera for the majority of the night.
But the presence of American Music has lead to funny situations. If you're fluent in English you never really notice how much slang and exaggerated phrases are built into the language. Phrases we use all the time "That sucks", "I'm starving", "He's a coach potato" do not make any sense if you don't have a full grasp of the language. Music of course, especially pop and hip-hop is littered with these types of phrases. So I have to admit it's been really funny explaining what a "man-eater" is and what "she hit the floor" means to friends.
But there is still that longing for latin music.
Since more weeks have passed I have found the elusive nighttime spots that play the rhythms of this country. Just yesterday I saw an amazing performance from a Nicaraguan band. It was those nights that I had the best times.
So I say long live merengue, bachata, palo de mayo, cumbia, salsa, all the music that really makes me feel connected to Latin America.
Once you feel, I mean really feel the music of Latin America, you will keep on dancing and never look back.
Sunday, February 22, 2009
Friday, February 13, 2009
The Old Managua
we hand wash all of our clothes
at first I found this peculiar, not because it's something that I don't have the ability to do or haven't done before, but because I live in a house with internet and cable
so why isn't there a washing machine?
there are three reasons for this,
one. the water supply here is limited. I haven't gotten a full understanding of how the system works here, mostly because it's a difficult conversation to try to have in Spanish. What I do know however, is that the last time I tried to take a shower and there was no water we went outside, climbed up a little ladder, and opened the lid of a tank full of water to check the level. After seeing there was plenty of water we followed the hose that streamed the water only to find it was wound very tightly. After unwinding the hose the water flowed freely again. The likelihood of a full blown washer working on this system is very slim
two. the beautiful weather. Line drying here is a a 30 second process. In the city of Managua as well as other parts of the country the weather is extremely hot everyday. Temperatures fall between 90 and 95 degrees daily (that's 32 and 37 degrees for our good ole centigrade users i.e. the entire world) The heat is something you get accustomed to, even fall in love with if your here more than a week. Everyday is a comfortable, sunny day.
three. the opportunity to converse. My host mother Marina has a sister Janet who comes a few times a week to help out cooking and cleaning the house. When I first met her she was very quiet. She would go about her chores around the house with swift silence, but when I looked at her I knew she had plenty to say.
My opportunity to truly speak to her came during a Wednesday. She came to my room and said "Disculpame muchacha, vos tenes algo para lavar?" It took me a moment to realize she was asking to wash my clothes. Of course this was not going to happen. I picked up all of my clothes and went outside to learn the system here in Nica.
It's a pretty efficient process that she can do twice as fast as I can. Basically it involves running water, a lot of different barrels, pre soaking, the works. During that time however, I had the chance to get to know her. She talked about her children, how much she loved her country. Mostly she told me about the Old Managua. A huge part of the history of this city was the earthquake of 1972. 90 percent of Managua was destroyed. After that the road to recovery was bleak. Skyscrapers no longer exist here and the construction of the roads that mostly are nameless, the layout of the city, the poverty that exists, is evidence that there was a great tragedy here.
But even with the tragedy, the city loves you. Everything about it is so completely welcoming.
"Habria adorada la cuidad vieja. Fue hermosa" she said, clearly reminiscing about the beauty of the lost Managua.
"Todavia es hermosa" I said. There was the slightest grin. Then she wrung the wet clothes and hung them up to dry.
at first I found this peculiar, not because it's something that I don't have the ability to do or haven't done before, but because I live in a house with internet and cable
so why isn't there a washing machine?
there are three reasons for this,
one. the water supply here is limited. I haven't gotten a full understanding of how the system works here, mostly because it's a difficult conversation to try to have in Spanish. What I do know however, is that the last time I tried to take a shower and there was no water we went outside, climbed up a little ladder, and opened the lid of a tank full of water to check the level. After seeing there was plenty of water we followed the hose that streamed the water only to find it was wound very tightly. After unwinding the hose the water flowed freely again. The likelihood of a full blown washer working on this system is very slim
two. the beautiful weather. Line drying here is a a 30 second process. In the city of Managua as well as other parts of the country the weather is extremely hot everyday. Temperatures fall between 90 and 95 degrees daily (that's 32 and 37 degrees for our good ole centigrade users i.e. the entire world) The heat is something you get accustomed to, even fall in love with if your here more than a week. Everyday is a comfortable, sunny day.
three. the opportunity to converse. My host mother Marina has a sister Janet who comes a few times a week to help out cooking and cleaning the house. When I first met her she was very quiet. She would go about her chores around the house with swift silence, but when I looked at her I knew she had plenty to say.
My opportunity to truly speak to her came during a Wednesday. She came to my room and said "Disculpame muchacha, vos tenes algo para lavar?" It took me a moment to realize she was asking to wash my clothes. Of course this was not going to happen. I picked up all of my clothes and went outside to learn the system here in Nica.
It's a pretty efficient process that she can do twice as fast as I can. Basically it involves running water, a lot of different barrels, pre soaking, the works. During that time however, I had the chance to get to know her. She talked about her children, how much she loved her country. Mostly she told me about the Old Managua. A huge part of the history of this city was the earthquake of 1972. 90 percent of Managua was destroyed. After that the road to recovery was bleak. Skyscrapers no longer exist here and the construction of the roads that mostly are nameless, the layout of the city, the poverty that exists, is evidence that there was a great tragedy here.
But even with the tragedy, the city loves you. Everything about it is so completely welcoming.
"Habria adorada la cuidad vieja. Fue hermosa" she said, clearly reminiscing about the beauty of the lost Managua.
"Todavia es hermosa" I said. There was the slightest grin. Then she wrung the wet clothes and hung them up to dry.
Sunday, February 8, 2009
It's a big world
This weekend was wonderful
Gretchen and I made it all the way to the beautiful beach town of San Juan del Sur. San Juan del Sur is popular tourist spot in Nicaragua. Most university students travel there during la Semana Santa (holy week and vacation week as well). However I figured why wait? My goal is to see as much of this country as possible. Two other exchange students from Austria live in the town with a host family of their own. Since I hadn't seen much of them (San Juan is over two hours away from Managua), I figured the weekend would be a great time to get to know each other.
This was when I realized that the world is much bigger than Nicaragua and the United States. This may seem obvious but when you study in a country, sometimes your focus stays on the country you are exploring and your homeland. For weeks I have had to explain my origin (Soy de los Estados Unidos) and in turn I would ask whoever I was meeting "Eres nicarguense? Donde vives?" In my mind Nicaragua and the US were the two countries that existed.
This of course is not true and everything was illuminated during my stay in San Juan.
During my weekend I had ample time to converse with people from Germany, Austria and Canada. Can you imagine transitioning into a country where you do not know the main language? But also imagine this, there is a secondary language that is spoken in the country but you don't know that language well either. That is the reality for Stephan and Gunter, students from Austria.
Like a host of other countries in the world, the US has a tremendous influence in Nicaragua (that alone could be a whole post of its own) Part of that influence of course is the presence of English. Although the majority of people only speak Spanish, if someone does know a bit of another language, it's always English.
Having the opportunity to speak with Stephan and Gunther opened a new perspective for me. As we ate traditional Austrian food with the entire family in San Juan del Sur (including six little children, the grandmother of the family, and her daughters as well) I realized that if they could thrive and learn the culture here than I certainly could as well.
Language of course is extremely powerful. It's the means by which we as human beings express ourselves to one another. But there are so many ways in which we can communicate with each other even if language is obscure. When I watched the kids adoringly embrace Stephan as he handed out plates of food for dinner I knew that communication has much more depth then we care to think about. He spoke German to them asking them to sit down to eat, they replied in Spanish, saying thanks and asking more more food. Here they are speaking two different languages and yet the bond between them is undeniable.
It's a big world
part of studying abroad is gaining insight into the culture in which you are immersed
the other part of studying abroad is realizing the world is so much bigger than you care to imagine
and that even with the presence of all the cultures that exist, there is always that ability, if you so desire, to find common ground
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
Spanglish doesn't fly
School officially started on Monday
when i told my friends back in the US they were immediately jealous
"So you've been bumming around this whole time!" No not exactly. I've been taking Spanish prep courses and getting acclimated to a completely new environment, which of course at times has been hard, but also amazing
However a small Spanish prep class is nothing compared to full blown literature and history in another language
quickly, i learned Spanglish does not fly
I was making it through my classes for the day. History wasn't half bad. Hispanic American Literature was alright. But then I got to Introduction to Literature, a class that I believed would be interesting. How are the fundamental concepts of literature taught in a different country? However I was mistaken when I believed that because it was an intro class I could breeze through and remain an innocent bystander in the classroom. Instead I was asked to creatively introduce myself and give my own definition of the meaning of literature. In Spanish.
The class was patient with me however, as I tried my best to mentally translate my ideas from English to Spanish. Every now and then I would mistakenly say a word in English only to receive a little glare from my teacher. This glare was the "sorry bud your not in Kansas anymore, rev up the Spanish"
In a way its a good thing
Why should I be accommodated because I don't fully know the language of the country?
It's my job to adjust to the culture here not for it to adjust to me.
So in my daily life I've made some changes. No more watching TV in English. Talk more extensively with all the members of my family even though its difficult. Try desperately not to speak English to the other exchange students here (this is by far the hardest).
It's tough. But when my spanglish goes from spanglish to spanish
it'll all be worth it
when i told my friends back in the US they were immediately jealous
"So you've been bumming around this whole time!" No not exactly. I've been taking Spanish prep courses and getting acclimated to a completely new environment, which of course at times has been hard, but also amazing
However a small Spanish prep class is nothing compared to full blown literature and history in another language
quickly, i learned Spanglish does not fly
I was making it through my classes for the day. History wasn't half bad. Hispanic American Literature was alright. But then I got to Introduction to Literature, a class that I believed would be interesting. How are the fundamental concepts of literature taught in a different country? However I was mistaken when I believed that because it was an intro class I could breeze through and remain an innocent bystander in the classroom. Instead I was asked to creatively introduce myself and give my own definition of the meaning of literature. In Spanish.
The class was patient with me however, as I tried my best to mentally translate my ideas from English to Spanish. Every now and then I would mistakenly say a word in English only to receive a little glare from my teacher. This glare was the "sorry bud your not in Kansas anymore, rev up the Spanish"
In a way its a good thing
Why should I be accommodated because I don't fully know the language of the country?
It's my job to adjust to the culture here not for it to adjust to me.
So in my daily life I've made some changes. No more watching TV in English. Talk more extensively with all the members of my family even though its difficult. Try desperately not to speak English to the other exchange students here (this is by far the hardest).
It's tough. But when my spanglish goes from spanglish to spanish
it'll all be worth it
Monday, February 2, 2009
La ensalada
as time goes on and I get to know the people more, my experience is even better
there is this feeling that is so completely surreal about being here, everyday I wake up I have to tell myself again "I'm in Nicaragua" and a wave of happiness, an electric feel charges through my body
this weekend was great, one of my first adventures far outside of Managua
here in the country of Nicaragua there is much natural beauty, beaches, rain forests, and islands
this weekend my friend Gretchen and I made pilgrimage to the beach of Pochomil
my Spanish teacher here that prepped me before classes with everyone began, gave me simple directions: walk to the bus stop across from UCA (Universidad Centroamericana) Take the 120 bus to Mercado Israel, walk to the back of the market, look for the bus that says Pochomil
These seemed like simple directions but our trip proved to be much more complicated. The first difficulty was finding the 120 bus. Here the term bus stop is used loosely. It's more like you stand on the side of the road, buses drive by at random times, the driver's assistant hangs out the car yelling the destination, and you hop on, mostly while the bus is moving. It sounds crazy but it is completely normal here. After finally finding the bus we were dropped in a the center of Mercado Israel.
My teacher described the market as fairly easy to navigate. This of course was not true. The market was huge. Not as large as Mercado Oriental but just as jam packed with people. The two of us stuck out like sore thumbs, thus the amount of people running towards us to sell us goods was certainly far greater than the average traveler. We wandered around, asking various people for directions which they gave willing, but in Spanish of course, making the process a little harder. We finally found a sign that said Pochomil. After waiting 20 minutes the bus arrived. However a lot of people apparently were trying to go to Pochomil on that Saturday. After barely making it on the bus even though we were the first ones there we began a two hour journey out of Managua.
The journey would not have been so bad if we were not standing basically the whole time. That however, I didn't mind as much as the fact we were traveling on a winding single lane road through the wilderness. The school bus, painted with the colors of the Nicaraguan flag somehow managed to navigate the rocky roads. At times literally you could look out of the bus window and see a drop off, nothing but cavernous land.
It was there, as I passed by empty fields, that I saw the lives of those who do not live in the city, the raw world of the countryside. It was the strangest thing you could imagine. Ever so often there were houses with no running water, clothes hanging on lines, old women walking with baskets on their heads full of goods, but then you would see a booth for Moviestar (one of the two-cell phone companies here) where cell phones were being sold. I wasn't sure how these two ideas co-exist out in the country, was this the influence of capitalism? In time I will fully understand.
As we rode along, people got off at different points, seemingly into the middle of no where. When we arrived at Pochomil we were the last people on the bus and were more than happy to have finally arrived.
As soon as we stepped off the bus and set foot on the beach, it all became worth it. The beach was beautiful. The huge waves of the ocean were like music. Their were people riding horses, music of the Caribbean, and delicious local foods.
But nothing here is commercial. No matter where you go you will see the real world as it exists. I think that's what makes this experience invaluable. Gretchen and I ate tostones con queso as a snack at the beach. The tostones (a sort of re-friend planton) came with a little cabbage salad as a decoration on the plate. As we prepared to leave we thought nothing of the salad and picked up our bags and towels. An old woman of a least seventy years pointed to the dish and said "Por favor muchacha, la ensalada, la ensalada" When I realized she was asking for the little pile of cabbage, I handed it to her. She took it in her hands and placed it in a little plastic bag. She pointed to the sky and said "El Senor es con ellos"
"Y contigo" I said to her. She smiled and walked away, towards the other side of the beach. "And with you" I couldn't help repeating under my breath, as I watched her disappear in the distance.
there is this feeling that is so completely surreal about being here, everyday I wake up I have to tell myself again "I'm in Nicaragua" and a wave of happiness, an electric feel charges through my body
this weekend was great, one of my first adventures far outside of Managua
here in the country of Nicaragua there is much natural beauty, beaches, rain forests, and islands
this weekend my friend Gretchen and I made pilgrimage to the beach of Pochomil
my Spanish teacher here that prepped me before classes with everyone began, gave me simple directions: walk to the bus stop across from UCA (Universidad Centroamericana) Take the 120 bus to Mercado Israel, walk to the back of the market, look for the bus that says Pochomil
These seemed like simple directions but our trip proved to be much more complicated. The first difficulty was finding the 120 bus. Here the term bus stop is used loosely. It's more like you stand on the side of the road, buses drive by at random times, the driver's assistant hangs out the car yelling the destination, and you hop on, mostly while the bus is moving. It sounds crazy but it is completely normal here. After finally finding the bus we were dropped in a the center of Mercado Israel.
My teacher described the market as fairly easy to navigate. This of course was not true. The market was huge. Not as large as Mercado Oriental but just as jam packed with people. The two of us stuck out like sore thumbs, thus the amount of people running towards us to sell us goods was certainly far greater than the average traveler. We wandered around, asking various people for directions which they gave willing, but in Spanish of course, making the process a little harder. We finally found a sign that said Pochomil. After waiting 20 minutes the bus arrived. However a lot of people apparently were trying to go to Pochomil on that Saturday. After barely making it on the bus even though we were the first ones there we began a two hour journey out of Managua.
The journey would not have been so bad if we were not standing basically the whole time. That however, I didn't mind as much as the fact we were traveling on a winding single lane road through the wilderness. The school bus, painted with the colors of the Nicaraguan flag somehow managed to navigate the rocky roads. At times literally you could look out of the bus window and see a drop off, nothing but cavernous land.
It was there, as I passed by empty fields, that I saw the lives of those who do not live in the city, the raw world of the countryside. It was the strangest thing you could imagine. Ever so often there were houses with no running water, clothes hanging on lines, old women walking with baskets on their heads full of goods, but then you would see a booth for Moviestar (one of the two-cell phone companies here) where cell phones were being sold. I wasn't sure how these two ideas co-exist out in the country, was this the influence of capitalism? In time I will fully understand.
As we rode along, people got off at different points, seemingly into the middle of no where. When we arrived at Pochomil we were the last people on the bus and were more than happy to have finally arrived.
As soon as we stepped off the bus and set foot on the beach, it all became worth it. The beach was beautiful. The huge waves of the ocean were like music. Their were people riding horses, music of the Caribbean, and delicious local foods.
But nothing here is commercial. No matter where you go you will see the real world as it exists. I think that's what makes this experience invaluable. Gretchen and I ate tostones con queso as a snack at the beach. The tostones (a sort of re-friend planton) came with a little cabbage salad as a decoration on the plate. As we prepared to leave we thought nothing of the salad and picked up our bags and towels. An old woman of a least seventy years pointed to the dish and said "Por favor muchacha, la ensalada, la ensalada" When I realized she was asking for the little pile of cabbage, I handed it to her. She took it in her hands and placed it in a little plastic bag. She pointed to the sky and said "El Senor es con ellos"
"Y contigo" I said to her. She smiled and walked away, towards the other side of the beach. "And with you" I couldn't help repeating under my breath, as I watched her disappear in the distance.
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