ProNica – Nicaragua

Today, like many of the days we have spent in Nicaragua, was one of activity, excitement, and emotional trial. We began the morning by packing up our things and saying goodbye to the Casa Cuaquera to head to Matagalpa. We made it to the station just in time to catch the express bus and got started on the couple-hour trip north. As we made our way up into the mountains, we were greeted by various characters who boarded the bus, including a clown and a man selling elote and tamales. Once we reached Matagalpa, which is a beautiful, walkable city nestled into a valley and surrounded by green mountains, we were driven straight to the Casa Materna, where Jemma will be interning this summer and where we were to spend the night. I think most of us enjoyed taking in the sights on the drive almost as much as we enjoyed watching Jemma’s face of excitement at seeing her new home for the first time.

We dropped our things at the Casa Materna, met up with Kitty, a social worker there and one of Jemma’s mentors, and then headed out again to reach Selva Negra. This enormous property, composed primarily of coffee farms and woods with hiking and horseback riding trails, was founded by Germans living in the area. We enjoyed a delicious buffet meal topped off with German chocolate cake and then split up to explore the area as we pleased. A number of us headed deep into the mountainous woods, discovering howler monkeys, toucans, magnificent trees, and more as we hiked. Eventually, we regrouped in the restaurant, where we were regaled with stories–and jokes–about the history of Germans and coffee in Nicaragua by Eddy Kühl, the husband of the owner of Selva Negra and quite a character.

Returning to the city, we went out to dinner at an Italian restaurant and were joined by Sue Howe, a friend of Carmen’s and Kaye’s. After another couple hours of great conversation, we returned to Casa Materna, where we watched a thought-provoking documentary about Ben Linder. A U.S. citizen, Ben headed to Nicaragua as a young college graduate and dedicated himself to bringing water-powered energy and joy (as a clown) to the Nicaraguan people but was tragically targeted and killed by Contra forces funded by his own native government. He became a big rallying point for Nicaraguans and Americans alike against U.S. involvement in the Contra War. At the conclusion of the film, with tired bodies and full brains, we then called it a night and went to bed. All in all, it was a long yet rewarding day.

I want to dedicate this post as a memorial to César, a 13-year-old Quincho who took his life today. Although we didn’t have the fortune to meet him when we visited, he has been a huge presence in our thoughts and conversations and we send our consolations to all those who knew and loved him.

On the morning of June 8th, we were all faced with the gloomy reality that it was the official time to go our separate ways. For some of us, that meant the exciting opportunity to begin a summer-long internship in Nicaragua, working towards goals like rehabilitating ex-street children or working to reduce maternal mortality. But for others, like myself, it meant the gloomy end of an incredible 10 day delegation and the flight back to our respective homes in the US. Nonetheless, sad farewells were no match for the power of sweet music. I was lucky enough this morning to wake up to Kelsey’s moving rendition of the popular hit “Call Me Maybe” on guitar joined by a spirited choir of delegation back-up singers. Such cheerful playing along with relaxing leisure time inside Quaker House continued throughout the morning while we awaited our van to take us to the airport. At around 10 am, we sadly had to say goodbye to Zoe, a Haverford grad about to embark on an exciting summer internship in Matagalpa, as well as Jose-Antonio and Beverly, two knowledgable and insightful Nicaraguan students who had accompanied us throughout the delegation. Finally, the van arrived and we had to give our parting hugs also to Kelsey and Gabby who stayed behind in Quaker House and would soon begin their respective summer work, Kelsey in Managua with Acahual and Gabby in nearby San Marcos with Los Quinchos.

On the van to the airport, Chloe challenged us with two difficult tasks. The first was to come up with superlatives, which we did with only marginal success. Marissa, we concluded, was most likely to sneak off the airplane and stay in Nicaragua. Abby was the most likely to contribute provocative comments. Gabby, without a doubt, was the most likely to be found applying her makeup in a war-zone. Sienna was most likely to get in a fight with a tropical beast.

The second task, though, was more daunting. Chloe asked us how we would respond to the frightening and inevitable question posed by family and friends upon our return: “How was your trip?” As the delegation was far more complex and challenging than your average summer vacation, we quickly realized that no one response, no matter how thorough, would be satisfactory. I looked back at our travels and saw a fantastic blur. A host of magical people and places came to mind, all equipped with the power to shake the normal American senses. Viciente Padilla with his inspiring story of peaceful resistance and his edenic organic coffee farm; Mama Licha’s remarkable road to establishing an internationally renowned midwifery clinic; the rich forests of Miraflor with fig trees so large that they resembled the “Hometree” from the film Avatar; the many murals which each rivetingly illustrated a piece of social struggle and success; Aldo, aka “The Origami Wizard” and his limitless knowledge of botany. And that was just to name a few. I felt like I had just crammed years of memorable experience into an immensely dense 10 day period. We agreed that the best way to address our family’s unanswerable question was to respond with another request: (in the words of Chloe) “Give me a detailed question and I will give you a detailed answer.”

Apart from our farewell with Carmen (whose unyielding exuberance shined brightly even during sad farewells), all went smoothly and pleasantly in the Managua airport and during our flight to Miami for the seven of us returning home. And yet, for my own part, after getting a taste for the troubling US involvement in Nicaragua, specifically during the Contra War, I felt quite odd about beginning my journey in Sandino’s airport in Managua and ending it in Reagan’s in Washington, DC. I was flying from the national hero responsible for founding Nicaraguan dreams to the national hero responsible for brutally crushing them. In more ways than one, I could not help but feel like I was moving in the wrong direction.

We woke up at around 4:30am on the 6th, packing our things to venture out into the the Estelí madrugada. “Madrugada,” is a wonderful Spanish word that accurately describes the early time of morning when you ask yourself “why on earth am I awake?” as the circles under your eyes lead strangers to wonder why you’re dressing up as a raccoon. Needless to say, I had raccoon circles under my eyes as we pulled up to the station and took a bus that in a previous life had carried school children, to Miraflor. The mist was still hanging in the air when we got off and hiked up a winding dirt road and through a field to arrive at Posada La Soñada where a delicious homemade, organic breakfast awaited us. We spent the rest of the day wandering around the beautiful farm and hiking the various surrounding trails, led by the Estelí origami magician, Aldo.

A previous volunteer had constructed a tree house near the coffee plantation, which we explored first. The house was complete with a bed, porch, and incredible view of the farm and surrounding cloud forest. A few of us entertained the idea of sleeping there for the night as we continued our hike into the cloud forest. Aldo was an excellent guide, telling us about sacuanjoche, or frangipani, the national flower, as well as showing us an enormous matapalo, or strangler fig tree. He led us to a particular matapalo that had killed an enormous tree, leaving a large empty space in the middle. We stepped through the vines and stood in the middle of the tree as he told us about the aggressive nature of the matapalo, as the seedlings grow from the branches of the host tree downwards into the soil, eventually strangling the host. The hike was beautiful, albeit muddy, and after arriving back at the farm, we headed out again to see the waterfall that Aldo had mentioned.

The hike to the waterfall was longer and but definitely worth the time. A few of us went swimming and exploring around the river while others relaxed and enjoyed the view. I’ll admit that the water was pretty cold, but it felt amazing, especially after the hour long hike and muddy trails. The cloud forest was also amazing. Nicaragua is in its rainy season right now, so while it is more muddy and wet, the rain is necessary to support the plant and animal life. It was also really cool to watch the mist roll in in the morning and evening. We learned that during the Sandanista war, the Contras would often plan attacks in the morning or evening, as the mist offered ideal cover for the attacks.

The time we spent at Posada La Soñada was rejuvenating and insightful. It was wonderful to be surrounded by such beautiful naturaleza, yet the beauty was somewhat marred by the region’s history. Estelí and Miraflor in particular, were two places where the war had hit the hardest. Lillian told us about her time spent in Miraflor in the 80′s, telling accounts of the brutality of the U.S. funded war, especially in places like La Soñada. While the country is still healing from its bloody history, that evening the farm seemed sleepy and peaceful as night fell and our conversations were accompanied by the chirping of cicadas.

Mira Flor is known as the cloud forest for a reason. Waking up this morning, we were greeted by the most beautiful fog seeping in through the cabin window. Three horses resting in the field across from us appeared as only shadows because they too were enveloped in clouds. As with most of Nicaragua’s natural beauty that we’ve  witnessed thus far, however, this story-book setting of rolling hills, magical forests, and waterfalls is tinged with the memory of human pain. This same fog which we admire was once used as a war tactic for the contras, as they could more easily attack without being seen in the morning hours when the fog was so dense. Keeping such history in mind as we enjoy our last morning hike, eat a DELICIOUS breakfast, and play with the local 9 month old baby living here in Mira Flor only makes this experience more meaningful.

The majority of our day today involved travel. From Mira Flor to Esteli, this means a bumpy (seriously, bumpy!) two hour bus ride through beautiful country roads. Stopping occasionallyto pick up more people (filling the seats three to a row), we learn that this kind of bus is called a “chicken bus.” Sure enough, a woman sitting near Kaye holds a live chicken in her lap! Riding buses in Nicaragua really is a cultural experience. Clowns, food vendors, and children selling cold drinks are just a few of the interesting people who have hopped on to say hi on the many bus rides we’ve taken during this delegation.

At Esteli, we say goodbye to Jemma and Siena, wishing them luck as they begin their language program at La Gartillo for the next week and we continue on to Managua. From this moment on, the trip slowly starts to wind to an end in my mind. Our group that has been sharing close quarters, laughter, tears, and insight during this trip will be completely separated by tomorrow evening. I’m grateful, however, that the important lessons I’ve gained in better understanding solidarity, as well as the friendships we’ve formed will not be lost. As we shop for local artisan goods and have our nails painted by women trained by the Acahual Women’s Center tonight, I reflect on how blesssed I feel to have experienced bits of  Nicaragua’s historical memory, people, and landscape for the past 10 days with a group of truly wonderful people. Good luck to Siena, Jemma, and everyone else this summer!

Quite a busy day today! After waking up in Esteli, we journeyed to Mama Licha’s midwifery clinic — a beautiful symbol of life and female empowerment. Within a few seconds of meeting this famed woman, we were laughing at the hilarity of her experiences as a teacher who, according to her mother, “didn’t know anything.” Mama Licha challenged herself to become literate and later to become a teacher… and even an expert at cross-stitching. She ignored all taboos of discussion regarding female bodies as she used an avocado to represent a uterus to teach women about STD examinations. Mama Licha kept us laughing through her demonstration, yet also reminded us of her iconic status within this community as an educator who broke through boundaries in order to educate women (and their partners) about health and pregnancy.

After a morning of health education, we ventured to the Gallery of Heroes and Martyrs, a museum especially significant to Esteli as this town was a Sandinista stronghold during the Contra War. Unlike Contras from other cities, Contras from Esteli did not have any sort of reconciliation with their Sandinista residents — in fact, most fled to Honduras. This museum fit into a very important conversation regarding historical memory as the museum’s photographs and illustrations were provided by widows, mothers, and sisters of Sandinista fighters of Esteli. These women have become responsible for maintaining the memory and legacy of these brave fighters; our tour guide, for example, had lost her brother in the Contra War. In a very important way, this experience reminded us as Americans that by traveling to Nicaragua and especially to the Gallery that we are now also responsible for the memory of these soldiers and that when we return to the U.S. we need to tell others what we have seen and experienced. Most significantly, this conflict must not be silenced.

For lunch, we ate at La Casita, a paradise of a park free to the public as well as an organic restaurant serving whole wheat bread, cheese, jam, and fruit juices. The owner reminded us that in persuing our dreams that we must simultaneously follow our hearts. The food was delicious and the mission of the restaurant was beautiful as well.

After lunch, we took a brief stop in a cigar factory across the street from Hotel Luz where we learned about the production of cigars. This factory was relatively small and sold its products to shops in Chicago, a symbol of trade in a globalized economy.

And just when we thought our trip could not get any better… we met Aldo! A true origami wizard as well as expert upon  Nicaraguan nature! Aldo’s eyes sparkled as he presented us with origami design after design, explaining that even though he is very talented that he sometimes cannot afford to go to international origami festivals. After only a short amount of time with him, we saw how Aldo could see the world in such beautiful ways, transforming sometimes disorderly nature into artistic perfection.

Thank you again to the CPGC and ProNica for all of these amazing experiences!

Yesterday during an orientation talk, Carmen, our host here at La Casa Quakera, explained to us a certain type of wisdom that she has found to exist in Nicaragua.

“People here have a special connection with nature. They know the importance of birds. They know the importance of talking to a cow when you are milking her. ”
(Paraphrased)

Indeed, I’ve been learning things here that are just not as accessible in the parts of the United States that I’ve seen. Today was full of lessons on the country’s history as well as current events, and I found myself constantly impressed with the Nicaraguan spirit that these lessons revealed.

For instance, our first stop of the day was to meet a man named Mark (I never did catch his last name) who answered our remaining questions about Nicaragua. He was an American who had lived in Nicaragua since ’85, and an absolutely brilliant speaker. From him, we learned about the relationship between the United States and Nicaragua, as well as other parts of Nicaraguan history. One particularly striking part of his talk was concerning the United States’ method of national security as seen through Nicaraguan eyes. To paraphrase his words, the oppression of Nicaragua occurred because the United States could not stand to risk one tiny country like Nicaragua rebelling against its authority, as the rest of the countries controlled by the US might then decide to rebel as well. The United States, being the modern-day empire that it is, currently holds about 750 military stations around the world–basically, the US seems to be thinking that an intensive offense is the best defense, which may work in soccer or basketball, but makes for highly inhumane decision-making when implemented in foreign military affairs. The way in which the Nicaraguans resisted, though, and fought for the welfare of their poor majority population, was truly inspirational to hear.

After that, we drove over to the Tiscapa Lagoon and Managua’s Historical Center. The view of the Lagoon was gorgeous–hermoso was the appropriate word in Spanish, I was told–and in the midst of the natural scenery were the half-crumbled remains of Anastasio Samosa’s house. The ground we stood on was once walked by one of history’s most bloodstained dictators, and I felt on edge, almost as if there were ghosts looking out from within the ruins themselves. Nearby was erected a large black statue of the silhouette of Sandino; Sandino was killed somewhere in that area, though the exact location of his death is unknown.

After wandering that area for about 20 minutes, Carmen led us down a small stairwell (where a few of us ran into a cool-looking lizard) and into Managua’s Historical Center. The center was filled with huge black-and-white photographs of the faces of Sandino and his family, as well as soldiers of both La Guardia Nacional and of Sandino’s army. That very building in which Sandino’s life was being memorialized was once the office-space of Somosa’s armymen. The tour guide talked us through some of the events that occurred there, including some of the most horrific forms of torture imaginable. Sandino’s words shone brighter for me after learning of the heartlessness that he had been up against; the quotes of his on the walls spoke only of love and justice. We learned of Sandino’s so-called “crazy little army” which was called that because it was an army of 30, at first, which was meant to fight against a force of 5,000. Though poorly fed, clothed, and armed, they did eventually win in the end, as they became a legend that gave courage to future soldiers who would overthrow the Somosas and replace their government with one in the name of the Sandinistas.

Next, we went to a garbage dump called La Chureca. There was certainly trash around, though most of it had already been covered up by grass, and the dump location had been relocated elsewhere. The smell wasn’t pleasant, but people lived there, many of them depending on the garbage as a source of food. Within the dump was an area glowing with children’s laughter–a small food pantry where we got the chance to play with some of the liveliest children I’ve ever met. The little ones loved being picked up and spun around. I think that Gaby said it best as we headed out of La Chureca–”That was good for my soul.”

Finally, we visited the Association for the Promotion and Development of Nicaraguan Women ACAHUAL, where we learned about this particular women’s center in Managua and the incredible work they do for women in Managua. The women they work with come from a variety of backgrounds–some are lesbian or transgender, some are sex workers, and some come seeking psychological help because of domestic abuse. The center is able to not only provide drugs, tests, and condoms for these women, but also has an office for psychological assistance and legal help, and all of these things are given to the women for free if not for a very affordable price. According to the woman who spoke to us, the number of women helped by the center has grown from 30 to 85, and the number of STD tests that come back positive from these women has decreased significantly since the time when the center first began.

In general, this has been a wonderful and inspirational day. Now, I think it’s about time I got some sleep. Who knows what tomorrow will hold!