beautiful and tragic

Spending time in the campo, I was a bit surprised at the way of life there. I expected it to be a lot harder, but it was actually a bit relaxing. We would wake up at 4.30am every morning and my dad and sisters would milk the cows and make sure all the animals were fed. My sisters went to school from 8-1:30. During the day my dad would work for a little while, come back to the house, rest for a long time, do a little more work, and be done for the day. And it was practically the same routine for my mom except in the house.

Life was easy and simple. There was one choice of food, no electricity, three pairs of clothes for everyone, and an outhouse out back. Much of the day was spent on the porch simply being. It was a very restful and natural way of life. Something beautiful.

However we came to know that this simple and beautiful way of life is also the most tragic. Back in the US we have surrounded ourselves with buffers—health insurance, saving accounts, grocery stores. But there in the campo there are no buffers; life is tragic. Children in my community die of fever. In another community that a group was at, a five-year-old fell and literally had a hole in his head—a sizable piece missing. They simply cleaned it out and used some of our Neosporin to fill the hole and stuck a bandaid on it. If a disease spreads through the farm animals the families are left with nothing.

Their life is simple and beautiful, but so very tragic. But which is better? Living this simpler life is more natural and closer to the reality probably. However it is the buffers that we have created that often give us a safety net to prolong the inevitable many times.

Which is better?
I haven’t decided.

a bit of a summary

I’m back once again. Sitting here writing on an English keyboard I’ve noticed that I’ve gotten so used to typing on a Spanish keyboard that it’s now hard to type on an English keyboard—wow.

We made it back from Nicaragua, and it was undoubtedly two weeks that were well spent. The first three days we were in the capital, Managua. It’s an interesting place for a capital, because it’s not at all what you would expect. Back in its day, Managua used to a bustling metropolitan area, but after the earthquake in the early 70’s most of the city was destroyed and has not recovered since. Many places throughout the city literally felt like a ghost town. While we were in the city we had some amazing speakers including a woman presidential candidate and was a top general in the revolution, got to see some remarkable sites, go to a protest site made up of shanty town, and surprisingly have some time to relax.

After a few days calm in Managua the real adventure was ready to begin; it was time for the campo. Leaving a 4am, my group took a 7 hour bus ride from the capital to a town called Rama. From there we took a long boat for about 45 minutes down a river, follow by a 45 minute walk and hour on horse. When the man who was on the other horse, who I later found out was my dad, opened the door I had made it to my house in the campo. I spent the next week living there in the community of Concha 2. Most of my days were spent on the porch playing with my three-year-old-cute-as-all-get-out brother, going to school with my sisters (10 and 12), going to church, or doing absolutely nothing. We slept on the floor making every night a sleepover with my sisters, cooked on an open fire in the house (no electricity), took care of the farm animals, ate rice and beans for every meal, let the sun dictate when we slept, and enjoyed a much better pace of life.

After a week in the campo all the small groups that were spread all throughout the country met in the city of Granada for a few days of reflection and recuperation. We were all pretty worn out for life in the campo, but I know I wouldn’t replace it for anything. It is a moving experience. Granada was a perfect place to recover and process. It’s an old city right off Lake Nicaragua with all of the old buildings brightly painted and cobblestone streets—I loved it along with everyone else in the group.

On the way back from Nicaragua I was dropped off, and went to the beach at Tamarindo with some friends for a couple of days. Now I’m burnt and looking like a lobster, but it was great.

So that’s a bit of what we did in Nicaragua. It’s a hard experience to describe, however I’ll try to share a few thoughts later. For now here’s some pictures from the trip...

2 weeks, one backpack

We’re packing everything we need for two weeks into one backpack.

Monday at 6.30am we’re meeting at the bus station to make the 11 hour trip to Nicaragua. I’m excited and nervous all at once, but I think the excitement outweighs everything else.

Lately, as a part of Core Seminar, we’ve been Nicaragua’s history and how the US has constantly sought to hinder it. If you don’t know anything about the history there I would recommend looking it up—it’s a worthwhile endeavor. It’s a sad and troublesome history.

The first few days are going to filled with “charlas” (talks/interviews), so that we can hear more of the story and learn about the reality of today in Nicaragua. Then we’ll be splitting up into small groups of 4-5 and travel to every corner of the country to live with rural families living in poverty.

I am excited! I don’t think this trip could have come at a better time.

So due to the fact that we won’t have internet access for two weeks, you can expect to see nothing new here for the next two weeks. See you all in March!