Archive for February, 2007
On Sunday I had grown a little tired of all the tourists and loser American expats in Granada. I decided that I wanted to see a Nicaraguan town that wasn’t a tourist magnet. I asked around for suggestions and was told of a group of villages about 45 minutes away by bus. The town of Catarina is known for it’s streetside flower shops and its mirador, which has a beautiful panoramic view of the Laguna de Apoyo, Granada and Granada Lake.
Flowers for sale on the street in Catarina
The view from the mirador in Catarina
It attracts tourists but practically 100% are Nicaraguans. I saw one German fellow but the rest (excluding me) were Nica. I sat and listened to a traditional Nica marimba group for about 20 minutes - both for pleasure and to help stir up ideas for the guitar piece I’m writing. I think it may have helped break a log jam I’ve got trying to finish the piece. I strolled around the town for a while and decided to move on to another village I’d seen as we passed it in the bus en route to Catarina. It’s called Dariá and is really a pure Nica village. There’s no tourism even for Nicas. It also has a Mirador but it’s only for locals. I walked up to the collection of restaurants that line the street opposite the Mirador. These are regular Nica restaurants frequented by locals who all know each other and I definitely stood out but not in a bad way. In Nicaragua there seems to be an attitude that Americans are too dumb to learn Spanish so everyone tries to speak to me in either sign language, very limited English or the Spanish they might use with a two-year-old. I generally can’t understand them and have to beg them to use regular Spanish. They are always surprised to find I speak well and their first question is always “where did you learn?”. Among the volunteers, however, there are several that speak excellent Spanish.
I sat down at a table in the “Dicky-Dick” restaurant (I’m not kidding - and it doesn’t mean anything in Spanish) and had a beer before descending back into town.
The Dicky-Dick
On my way back to town I passed the local baseball field and a game was in progress. It was the local Dariá team against the team from Granada. Baseball is the national sport in Nicaragua and the people come out to watch all the games. This is the local pro league except they don’t get paid much. There is one higher league that is international and each country fields a team of it’s best players. Nicaragua plays against teams from Venezuela, Cuba, Puerto Rico, Panama and the Domincan Republic. The players were of a comparable skill level to perhaps AA ball in the US.
Baseball in Dariá
As I headed back to the bus stop I passed through a neighbor hood of simple Nicaraguan houses. They weren’t shacks like in the village where my school is but they were very simple structures. I was stopped by a fellow who wanted to chat about the two years he has spent in New York working in a pizza parlor. He was very nice and an older fellow (perhaps his Dad?) was sitting there in his rocking chair listening intently. He wanted to know how Chicago was different than Brooklyn or Manhattan and we had a nice talk comparing cities. He had learned a little English but also knew a little Polish, Chinese and Italian as well because the restaurant was staffed by immigrants from all over the world. When I was leaving after our chat, the old fellow invited me to return and I promised I would.
February 28th, 2007
Delia, the daughter of the family that I live with, invited Nigel, the English guy that also lives there, and I to visit the house where she and her husband live. It’s near the city of Masaya right next to the Masaya Volcano National Park. They live in a gated community that appears much like any gated community in the US except that they own the WHOLE community. Different members of the extended family live in each of the houses and they hire a guard to man the gate. Their house in very nice and they have a great view of the hills surrounding Masaya. They prepared a traditional Nicaraguan dish called baho that is kind of like a pot roast except with plantains instead of carrots, onions and potatoes. They then cover it with a salad that’s like cole slaw with tomatoes. To top it off you can put a chile sauce over the top if you wish. I did and it was quite good. After the meal (and a few glasses of rum drinks) we went to the National Park to see the volcano. You enter the park at the base of the volcano and climb in your car to a parking area at the rim of the active crater. There is also another crater that has been inactive for centuries and you can climb a footpath to reach its rim. The inactive crater has a floor filled with grass and trees.
The inactive crater
The other wall of the inactive crater
The active crater still has fumes pouring out of it and the instructions on your entry permit tell you to park with the front of your car facing the exit so you can leave in a hurry if it starts to erupt. It also tells you to hide under your car to avoid falling volcanic rock if the eruption starts suddenly. Those are some sobering instructions. The view down into the crater was pretty impressive… especially since I’ve never seen the inside of an active volcano. After about a half an hour the sulfur fumes started to pour out of the crater, so much so that we started to choke. We decided to save our lungs and head down to see the visitor center before leaving. We returned to their house to spend a pleasant early evening chatting on their patio with a breeze blowing off the hills.
Peering into the active crater
Gasses rising from the active crater
February 27th, 2007
On Monday a crew from Discovery Channel came out to the La Prussia school to film. They are doing a “Passport to Central America” series and for the show on Nicaragua they decided to focus on Granada and the La Esperenza volunteer group in particular. The producer explained to us that they were going to ask us to do things that we might not usually do because it would make better TV viewing. They wanted to film the kids running out for recess and they had to get the kids to do it a couple of times and had to film the bell being rung several times to get the right shot. The kids were great about it and were natural actors. When they run out for recess they normally head straight to the volunteer classroom because that’s where the toys and games are but this day they ran straight for the cameraman. Nicaraguan kids love to be photographed, especially with digital cameras so they can see the photos right away. They always shout, “enseñeme!”, which means “show me!”. They shot a lot of footage of the kids playing at recess, playing soccer, jumping rope and swinging on swings. Discovery also paid for food to be brought into the school so that the kids could eat. In the show it will look like this is a regular occurrence but it almost never happens. I’m told that a Japanese organization sends money for food to be sent to the schools daily but, mysteriously, the food never arrives. Some slimy official is no doubt pocketing the money and the kids get no food. On this day, however, they did eat thanks to Discovery.
Discovery filming the kids lined up for lunch
After lunch they filmed a few minutes of me doing a “tutoring session”. It was nothing like what we really do in our tutoring sessions, which are one on one and quite subdued. The producer wanted to have me sit outside with a group of 7-8 kids all sitting around me. I decided to show flash cards and have the kids shout out the answers in unison. I realize it was completely fake but I think it worked out well and if the bit doesn’t wind up on the cutting room floor it should make for good TV - my own little contribution to the proceedings. The show is supposed to run in June. When I have more information, I’ll pass it along. They told us that Discovery Channel has a viewership of 250 million so that will be a huge boost for La Esperanza.
The Discovery host interviewing the La Esperanza spokeswoman
February 21st, 2007
On Saturday a group of 4 of us decided to go to the Laguna de Apoyo again. This time we wanted to visit the near side, which has no development (yet!). The far side has restaurants and private beaches that you pay to enter. The near side is actually prettier and has less rocky beaches. The reason it’s so isolated is that there is no road leading to it that cars can pass. It’s a 1.5-hour walk without a bit of shade. We stocked up on water and some fruit on our way to the bus stop and took a chicken bus to where the road begins. It’s a long slow uphill walk because you are basically climbing a volcano. Then when you get to the rim it changes to a very steep downhill leading you down to the water. The view from the rim is gorgeous.
The view from the rim
The view from the beach
We spent the afternoon swimming and sunning - maybe a little too much sun but actually I’m not too fried today. At about 4:30 we decided to start the return trip. We made the steep climb up the inside of the volcano and when you reach the top you have to cross the property of a cattle rancher. We crossed the property without incident but as we started down the road back to town we came upon a herd of cattle being herded by a rancher. I was walking in the front of the group and all of a sudden a bull veered out of the group and charged straight at me. Well, OK, it wasn’t a bull but it had some big-ass horns! When a giant horned bovine creature charges you, you ain’t lookin’ between it’s legs to check it’s reproductive equipment.
C’mon, you have to admit it looks a little like a bull.
Everyone else was farther away so they took off running. I would have run too but I could see that I wouldn’t have had a chance. I just froze in my tracks. I figured maybe I could dive away at the last second if it kept coming - or better yet make a smooth bullfighter spin and impress the shit out of everyone. Fortunately, Caroline screamed as she ran and that atracted the rancher’s attention. He shouted at the cow (I still wish I could call it a bull!) and it stopped about four feet from me. He shouted to me, “Don’t move!” and I said, “no problem”. He came over on horseback and sent the animal on her way towards the corral. He told us that she was normally not aggressive and couldn’t explain why she charged. I don’t know why she did either but I can tell you that I now have an idea of what a bullfighter sees as the bull charges him in the ring and I think every one of those guys must have balls of steel.
February 19th, 2007
On Friday we had a fiesta at the school. On Wednesday the teachers went to a teacher meeting at another nearby school and heard that they were having a party for Valentine’s Day so they decided we had to have one too. It was set for Friday at 2:00 pm. The volunteers were charged with procuring a piñata. I met with Eva, our team leader, on Friday morning so that we could go to a piñata store and select the perfect one. We chose a “patito” - a little duck. It was actually rather huge. Next, we went across the street and bought 6 lbs. of candy to stuff it with. When we boarded the bus, all the passengers - Nicas and foreigners alike - got a kick out of the two gringos with their giant piñata. All the teachers arrived late to school, some as late as 45 minutes. One teacher didn’t come at all and told his students that they didn’t need to come to school if they didn’t want to. By the time all the teachers showed up it was nearly 1:00 and it left us no time for tutoring so we spent our time setting up our classroom for the party. Fro a proper piñata party you hang it over a crossbeam so someone can raise and lower it to make it more difficult for the blindfolded striker to hit. They started with kids of about 7-8 years old swinging blindfolded. For the girls it isn’t enough to merely hit the piñata, they make a performance of it by dancing between strikes then smoothly coming out of a dance step swinging.
“Where is that thing?”
One little boy dove for some candy that fell out after a strike and the little girl took her next swing at where she thought the piñata would be (since she was blindfolded). She wound up clubbing the kid across the forehead. No blood was drawn but he sure had a big welt on hit head. I’d never thought of piñata as a dangerous sport. Next, the youngest kids got to take their swings without a blindfold so they could enjoy being able to smack the piñata and because of the initial damage done by the older kids they could extract little bits of candy without having to hit it too hard.
Swing and a miss
The crowd goes wild after a good hit.
Finally the stick was handed to a 15-year-old boy with a learning disability and he got the honor of making the final blow that dropped the remainder of the candy. The kids loved it and it was really nice to see them give the disabled boy the honor. After the piñata was gone they teachers sent the kids home and left themselves, so we volunteers did the same and made it an early Friday.
The final blow
February 18th, 2007
Radio Volcán, a local radio station, has given La Esperanza Granada a once a week one hour time slot to put on a radio show. It’s called “The La Esperanza Gringo Show” and all the gringo volunteers bring in music from their home countries. It’s a very technically primitive radio station with beat up old equipment but the volunteers have a blast. The proliference of the iPod makes it easy to bring in music - you just jack the iPod right into the console and you’re ready to play DJ. This week they asked me to come and play a few tunes live on the air. I played “One Day in A Kansas Wheat Field” as a solo and then was joined by Oscar Bodà from Spain on clave and several volunteers with handclaps on a version of “Bread on Both Shores”. It was really fun because the studio is extremely small but about 10 volunteers came to listen and/or participate. On the second piece everyone was clapping flamenco-style palmas and shouting. A good time was had by all and they suggested I write a new piece inspired by my time here in Granada and come back to the station and give it it’s world premiere. I like the idea and I’m starting to mull over musical ideas to develop into a piece.
A side note on the term gringo: To Nicaraguans, a gringo is anyone with remotely white skin that’s not from Nicaragua. That includes the U.S., Canada, all of Europe, Australia, New Zealand etc. The origin of the term gringo (which is pronounced greengo) comes from the U.S.- Mexico war of 1846. The uniform of the American troops was green and the Mexicans would shout “green go!”, basically telling the U.S. troops to go home. This, to non-English-speaking ears sounded like they were saying “gringo’. Hence the term was born but it should only apply to Americans. Over the years it has basically come to mean any white-like person and has a bit of a pejorative feeling to it. In Mexico it is still used more to apply to Americans and has a more playful meaning but here in Central America it has a different connotation. In Mexico it makes me laugh but here I don’t like it.
February 13th, 2007
The fourth annual festival of poetry closed this weekend and Granada will slow back down. During the festival there were poets from 47 countries performing their poems in various venues around town. Additionally, there were several outdoor musical events connected to the festival. Quite a few vendors had set up booths selling everything from books to ceramics to leather goods. The poets from non-Spanish speaking countries had their work read in translation by a native speaker although a few who spoke Spanish read their own translations. Troups of street performers also put on shows around the downtown area, busking for tips. After spending so many years playing at the Green Mill poetry slams I could see the influence of Chicago style performance poetry on a worldwide scale. Not all poets had the ‘performance poet’ thing going on but many surely had some influence from it. All in all it provided some interesting diversions for a week.
Yesterday I spent the afternoon sitting in the central park playing my guitar. It was an unusually cool day. Cool isn’t actually the right word - maybe “unusually not oppressively hot” might be better. Anyway, I haven’t played in over a week just because I’ve been so busy with the school and other related things. I sat on a park bench and began to play and a series of people came and sat down to chat. First was a doctor from Canada who was here on a doctors without borders kind of mission. We exchanged stories about our respective volunteer operations. Next came Freddy, a 17-year-old student in his first year at the university. He is studying international relations because he wants to get involved in Nicaraguan politics to help reposition Nicaragua in the new transnational global economy. I told him to go for it because only the voice of youth can start a movement such as that - it will mean a huge change of thinking in Nicaragua. There is a huge imbalance in the Nica population in favor of youth. They have their own baby boomer generation and if it catches fire they just might do something. Next came a 45-year-old civil engineer who talked to me about all kinds of things including the damage done to the cement and stone structures here in Granada because the breeze blows in from the lake and brings humidity which eats away at the structures. He also made the point that between Granada and Leon, Leon is actually the older because it was built in the 16th century, as was Granada, but Granada was burned to the ground by the infamous William Walker in the 1860s and was rebuilt shortly thereafter. It was a pleasant afternoon and it was nice to meet some locals who either weren’t my students, weren’t trying to sell me something or weren’t beg. The begging is tough. Because of the extreme poverty there are indigents everywhere and if you gave something to everyone who asked you’d be out of money in a week. I get asked for money 15-20 times a day. What’s the right way to handle it? I’ve asked a lot of people what they think and no one has an answer. Some people choose to sell cashews, gum, shoeshines or whatever. I have decided to patronize their services instead of just handout money - I’d rather support someone who is making an effort to do something. My shoes have never shone as brilliantly as they do here. Once you buy something from the kids a few times they stop bugging you to buy and just become your friend and wave hello as you walk by.
February 12th, 2007
Several people have emailed me asking for more about the school where I work and the kids. I haven’t written more previously because I wanted to get a grip on things before trying to write about them. It’s all been a little confusing thus far. The schools here do NOT work like U.S. schools (or European schools) at all. Truancy laws are not enforced so kids only go to school if they feel like it and sometimes take months off at a time - sometimes even a whole school year. The grade levels aren’t age connected like in U.S. schools either. You have to pass a test to move to the next grade and if you miss test day, you’re spending the next year in the same grade. If the teacher dislikes having a child in class she’ll pass him to the next grade to get rid of him - not because he’s ready. So I teach in a class of 1st graders that has kids from 5 yrs. old to 14 yrs. old. Some of the kids can’t write their name, can’t count to 15 and don’t recognize any letters of the alphabet or any numerals. Others can count to 100 and do addition and subtraction of 2 digit numbers, know the alphabet and do some basic reading. The teacher teaches everything at the most basic level so imagine the abject boredom of the more advanced kids. There is also virtually no discipline in the classroom. Kids can come and go in and out of the classroom as they see fit. The classrooms are all on the ground floor and open into the schoolyard, which at this time of year is a big field of dirt.
The schoolyard at recess
There are generally a half dozen kids wandering around the schoolyard at any given time (obviously at recess there are a lot more!). The teachers occasionally decide to just go home early (like yesterday for example) and just send the kids home. Sometimes they just don’t show up at all and the idea of substitute teachers doesn’t exist. If a teacher has to stay late one day for 20 minutes, they’ll show up 20 minutes late the next day and just leave the kids running around the schoolyard until they arrive. Now, before you condemn the teachers, you must understand that the salary for a public schoolteacher here is $1350 a year. That’s not a mistake, that’s one thousand three hundred and fifty dollars a year. OK, so the cost of living here is about 1/4 that of the U.S. - then multiply that salary by 4 to get $5400. Would you work very hard at a full time job that pays $5400?
Chaos in the classroom
Into this whole scene we introduce the volunteers. We’re not here to try and change the nica education system - we’re here to do what we can to help the kids learn a little more effectively. Our principle job is the one-on-one tutoring. We pull a child out of class and give them 20 minutes or so of private instruction. Since the kids are at such widely varying levels within one grade level this is really important because we can focus on helping them run with their strengths and shore up their weaknesses. In the normal classroom this just doesn’t happen - everyone does the same rote lesson together. You really feel you are doing something worthwhile during the private sessions and almost all of the kids are really eager to work with us. When I go into the classroom to get a child to tutor several kids will grab me and say, “me, me, me!”.
Another thing we provide is games for before class and recess. These kids just don’t have games at home so they love to play them at school. It’s interesting that they don’t distinguish between educational games and purely fun games. They go for the educational ones just as much and frequently choose them over the others.
Playing games at recess
One problem we are having is that the teachers are starting to try and use the volunteers as babysitters. We do an art class for each grade once a week and they want it to last 2 hours so they can basically have free time. A 2 hour break out of a 5-hour day is substantial! What can you do with 3-4 year olds for 2 hours of art class? The first 30-45 minutes is great and then we spend the rest of the time trying to maintain some semblance of control. It’s only a little better with the older grades. We’re hoping we can change this because not only is it hard work but it also burns up 2 hours of our day that we could use for private tutoring.
I’ll be writing more about the schools and the kids in future postings but I’ll conclude here with a photo of Juana, a second grader, who helps us by sweeping our volunteer classroom every day. The environment may be chaotic but there are a bunch of good kids there.
Juana, amiga de los voluntarios
February 10th, 2007
On the first Sunday of every month La Esperanza Granada takes all the volunteers out to the isletas. The isletas are a group of 365 islands in Lake Nicaragua not far from Granada. You take a boat from the dock in the tourist area of Granada and in about 15 minutes you’re there. Some of the isletas are fairly large but many are only 25 yards across. You can buy your own island with a little house for $35,000. On the way to the isleta where we were to spend the day, the boat driver pulled us up to a very small isleta that is the home of a group of howler monkeys.
The monkey isleta (just to the right of center)
We had a bag of fruit and as soon as we started tossing the fruit chunks a half dozen came out to the branches of the trees nearest the boat. I’ve not seen them that closely before. They have opposable thumbs on both hands and feet and use their tails extensively to move through the branches. Hands, feet and tail kind of work as equals to propel them from branch to branch.
A Howler Monkey on shore
We moved on to the isleta where we spent the afternoon. It’s very peaceful and they offer very inexpensive food and drink. The beer is $.75 and I ordered a fresh grilled fish dinner for $2.75. You get to select your fish from a platter they bring around and it really was great.
Platter ‘O Fish
After letting the food settle, 3 other guys and I decided to swim back over to the monkey isleta as it was only maybe 1/3 of a mile away. We swam over but stayed in the water. The monkeys were so curious that they came right up to us in the tree branches that overhang the water (the howlers can’t swim) and were maybe an arms length away. One guy found a piece of fruit in the water and offered it to a monkey who came right up and took it from his hand. This shit doesn’t happen in Elmhurst.
The island where we spent the day
The boat brought us back to Granada so we could go to this American Sports bar that had a cable feed of the super bowl. An older American fellow on the boat said he didn’t care if he missed the first 5 minutes of the game. I said, “what if Devin Hester runs back the opening kickoff for a TD?”. Hmmmm. I went to the bar with a guy fom New York and Colin, the young Irish guy that I work with. Colin had never seen an American Football game and was curious to learn how the game works. It was interesting that he noticed the difference in composure in the pocket between Peyton Manning and Rex Grossman right away. He said it was like rugby in that the great players know how to “find a space for themselves”. He’s right and, of course, that proved to be the difference in the game. At halftime when Prince was performing a marching band joined him on the field. At that same moment a Nicaraguan marching band marched right past the open-air sports bar. It was a crazy mix of sound and very surreal. It was as if it was all coordinated from Miami.
February 5th, 2007
Yesterday I went with four other volunteers to visit a butterfly farm outside of Granada that is supposedly near La Prussia, the school where I work. We wanted to take a taxi and asked several taxi drivers if they knew where the farm is and they said no, they had never heard of it. Finally one said he did know it so we hopped into his cab. We drove for 10 minutes and he made a U-turn and went down a side road about a mile. Then he stops and asks if we recognize where we are. We say, “what do you mean?” and he responds that he doesn’t really know where the farm is - he thought we were asking for the school La Prussia. Now the young lady that asked him if he knew of the butterfly farm speaks pretty good Spanish and I heard her ask him and it was quite clear what she said. Fortunately, one of the girls with us kind of knew how to get to the farm if we backtracked to a cemetery near town so that’s what we did. When we arrived the taxi driver wanted to charge us double for getting lost! We said, “I don’t think so! You told us you knew where it was”. He answered that he didn’t understand the girl’s initial question. We told him forget it and gave him the prearranged fee. He left grumbling.
The “farm” turned out to be not much more than a backyard project by this couple. They were nice enough but clearly didn’t know what they were doing as far as entomology goes. They were importing insects and plants from all over Central America with no thought to any potential ramification to the ecosystem. They had no scientific training and wouldn’t even really qualify as dilettantes. When it came time to leave they told us that the charge was 100 Cordobas apiece for the visit. Now 100 Cords is only about $5 but here in Nicaragua that’s steep. That’s a meal in a nice restaurant or a night in a simple hotel. Think $25-30 USD. This fee was for viewing basically their hobby playhouse. Need I mention that they’re Americans. We chalked it up as a learning experience. Not learning as regards butterflies, but learning to always ASK PRICES FIRST!
Next on our agenda was a visit to the Laguna de Apoyo, which is a lake that has formed in the crater of an old volcano. We walked from the butterfly farm to the nearest road and hitched a ride in the back of a pickup back to town. This is a very common mode of transportation here - despite it’s obvious lack of safety. From town we got another taxi and asked him to take us to the laguna. We drove about 15 minutes and turned down a road that had a sign indicating the laguna. Once we got on that road the taxi driver confessed that he hadn’t been there in years and didn’t remember the way. We thought, “oh nooo”. But this guy was cool about it and simply flagged down another taxi to ask directions. We got there just fine and he said “ya cumplimos la aventura” which means “and now we complete the adventure”. He simply smiled and charged us the prearranged fee. Not all taxistas are asses.
The laguna was very pleasant although the French and Spanish folks complained that it wasn’t as nice as the Mediterranean. Well ok but but show me where you can get beer for $1 and a fresh fish dinner for $4.50 on the Mediterranean coast with volcanoes as a backdrop. It was a peaceful afternoon and we ate and drank some beer and swam (ok, not in that oreder) and returned home. A few of us, 2 Spaniards and a Frenchman, went to a cafe back in town to have another beer (no his isn’t a setup for a joke). We were talking and somebody mentioned an actress and I didn’t understand the name. After they all repeated it 3-4 times I realized they were saying “Marylin Monroe”. I said, “oh, Marylin Monroe” and they all hit the floor laughing. One girl said, “say it agian!”. I did and they doubled over again. They had never heard her name pronounced correctly and thought it was the funniest thing they ever heard. They want to find a video camera to film me saying it to crack up their friends back home. Ah, the unexpected things you encounter on the road.
February 4th, 2007
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