Extermination, Creation, Construction, and an Introduction

Hey all,
I know that it has been two weeks since I have last written. Trust me it is not because I don’t care about you all. Unfortunately, for those of you who do not know, I have to take classes through North Central while here in Nicaragua. It makes for quite an interesting time. I wake up, teach from 830 to 230 and then, most of the time, come home and do home work. However, I have had quite an interesting two weeks…
Thursday 13 May 2010-Friday 14 May 2010
It is really quite sad. It is not enough that the kids are dealing with a shortage of supplies, working with teachers with limited Spanish, and only occasionally actually studying within the confines of a building, but they also have to live with a gigantic ant infestation in and around the school. Inside, ants scurry across the white board, up and down the walls, and on the shelves where the kids store their supplies. Outside, the ants swarm around our feet while we are in class. This would not be so bad, the kids are used to bugs, but these ants bite and, when they do, it hurts—bad.
So, I decided to exterminate them. I bought a can of Baygone—the bug-world equivalent of the nuclear bomb. This stuff shoots mosquitoes right out of the sky, kills ants on touch, and, as I would find out, knocks scorpions off the ceiling.
As I was performing the Holocaust of the ant world, a scorpion fell from the ceiling. In my shock (I had never seen a scorpion before) I emptied half a can of Baygone on the little SOB. He reeled in pain, but did not die. Apparently, scorpions have a higher Baygone tolerance than smaller problematic infestations. Terrified, the baygone not working, I performed a daring jump, and ended the scorpion's life. He had proved a worthy advisory, but in the end he could not stand up to the combined power of Baygone and my Nike's. Patrick 1-Scorpions 0
Now for someone who has never seen a scorpion before I think I handled the situation fairly well. The screaming and overall freaking out was kept to an absolute minimum. Imagine my surprise when yet another scorpion fell from the ceiling minutes later. This time I didn’t bother with the Baygone. This scorpion met a swift end under my Nike’s. Patrick 2-Scorpions 0
At this point, I was rather paranoid. I began to throw all of my personal possessions, books, jacket, etcetera, from the door of the school, attempting to ensure that none of the six-legged-two-pincered-one-deadly-stinger-devils would be able to sneak up on me from behind.
They didn’t appear from the pockets of my backpack or jacket, but they did launch a surprise attack on me the next day, when I was less expecting it. A third scorpion failed at a daring jump onto my back. He, also, met senior Nike. Final Score--Patrick 3-Scorpions 0
I like to believe that it was my near death encounters that drove me to consume copious amounts of Flor de Cana (Nicaraguan Rum) that night. In any case, that is the reason that we will use. The night, while fun, lead to me passing out, without the luxury of clothing, in my roommates shower—with the water running. That, however, is not a story that I will go into. A piece of advice though—do not engage in drinking games where the principle language is not your first language (ie I speak English, so I should not play drinking games in Spanish). Actions contrary to this advice can lead to vomiting, de-clothing, and ultimately poor decisions.
Wednesday 19 May 2010-Friday 21 May 2010
The kids are cute, endearing, and little shits. Like most other kids in the world, they have the keen sensibility to detect weakness, and exploit it. They know that I have a soft spot for them, and they take advantage of it…
This leads to me doing more than the average amount of craft projects. In just a week the kids managed to have me do three different crafts projects. First, we made Indian headdresses. Then, we made puppets, and finally, we made trees with monkeys hanging out of them (pictures to come).
I do have to admit, however, it was rather comical seeing the children run around yelling agh-agh-agh-agh (made by using your mouth to make a streaming aaaaahhhhhh sound, then lightly covering and uncovering your mouth with one of your hands, which is up to you).
Sunday 23 May 2010
Today we worked a little bit more on the fence. One entire side is now completed. It was great. Almost all of the volunteers came out to the site. Most of our jobs consisted of watching the Nicas (slang for Nicaraguan) assembling the fence, while trying not to too much get in the way.
I am, however, once again, inspired by the community’s willingness to help the school. People are really supporting us. It feels good to give back to them.
Then, in the afternoon, Carla, Aaron, and I had the distinct pleasure of walking miles through mud up to our knees, up steep inclines, into the mountainous community of Buenos Aires, where GVI is establishing another school. Let me tell you—it was worth every gushy-with-mud step.
The people there have such distinct features. The people are lighter skinned, and many have blonde hair. There was one child who could have been white, attending school in the states, fitting right in with the middle class crowd. They, the people, are beautiful.
Their beauty, also, transcends into their community. Buenos Aires is high in the mountains, separated from the surrounding city. The houses are spread throughout hill and valleys. Just when you think that you have seen everything, you climb another hill and see houses spread for miles. While there, you feel as if you can reach up and touch the clouds, that is how close they are.
There was a palpable excitement in the meeting held there. Two hundred people came out to hear us, well Carla, speak. It was amazing to hear her speak to the crowd. She never had to raise her voice above her normal level of speaking. Every set of ears was trained directly on her. She talked, and people listened.
This is not to say that there have not been difficulties. There have. The schools opening in Buenos Aires has been delayed again. There are some leaders in the community who are seeking additional benefits (as if an education for their children is not enough).
These individuals give me more hope though. In Buenos Aires, just over the hill from the new school site a private school sits. They have lived their entire lives in the shadow of this private school, much too expensive to afford, and now they are embracing the idea of an education for their children. Their struggle is inspirational and is evidence that good things will happen to good people, if only there is enough time.

Patrick

The House that Reagan Built

Those of you who know me know that I am rather critical of our government. My experiences here have done nothing to relieve my criticality.

Over half of the population of Nicaragua is under the age of 25. Why?—you may ask. Not three decades ago a terrible civil war broke out in Nicaragua. Why?—again you may ask.

The Sandinistas assumed power in 1979 after years of an oppressive dictatorship and fighting to oust the dictatorship. The Sandinistas inherited widespread poverty and a country in shambles. Over 50,000 people had been killed in the revolutionary struggle and 150,000 people were left homeless. The Sandinistas had revolutionary ideals, including equal rights between men and women and a complete economic revolution.

Despite the shortcomings of the previous years the Sandinista government reduced illiteracy from 50% to just 13%, eliminated polio through a enormous immunization campaign, and reduced child mortality rates by a third.

Jimmy Carter immediately shipped $75 million USD to Nicaragua, but the government became “concerned” with the increasing number of Soviet and Cuban advisors.
Ronald Reagan took office in 1980 and cut aid to Nicaragua. The “communist threat” was too significant. He then diverted US funds to a counter revolutionary group—the Contras—in Honduras and later Costa Rica. Plans were revealed 1984 about US plans to mine Nicaraguan harbors (alternative motivations anyone?), leading to an International Court of Justice Case (which the US lost, then boycotted the ruling). Reagan initiated a trade embargo in 1985, further throwing Nicaragua into poverty. Civil War broke out in Nicaragua, claiming the lives of thousands of Nicaraguans. The US initiated the first ever bombing campaign in Central America.

In 1990 the US promised a lift of the embargo and financial aid if Nicaraguans voted against the Sandinistas. Despite Sandinista early success, the competitor, Violeta Barrios, took the election. Ortega, the then president, avoided further conflict by leaving office peacefully. For the next 20 years the United States supported an oppressive and dictatorial regime.

Everyone I talk to has lost someone as a result of the conflict in the 80’s and 90’s. One of the men who help with the project, Tearsten, was shot 16 times, and survived. A man that I built the fence with fought in the war and had killed people. Most of those people over 40 who I have talked to are killers. We have our government, specifically, Reagan to thank for that. He pitted countrymen against countrymen for political gain. Then he implemented neo-liberal policies across the developing world that would ensure that the rich would become richer, while the poor would continue to spiral deeper and deeper into poverty.

Then, last election I heard Republicans talking about returning to the “house that Reagan built.” What house? A house of imperialism, intolerance, and individualism? No thank you. The very suggestion of doing so makes me sick. The only way is forward. I hope that my countrymen can realize that we cannot cling to the conservative policies of old—they don’t work and they ensure inequality, the very thing which America claims to fight against, and are contradictory to democracy, what America claims to support.

America has proven to be one large contradiction.

Somoto

I almost died on Monday.

There is a canyon that runs through Somoto, Nicaragua. This Canyon houses the longest and largest river in Central America. Under normal circumstances, you can strap on a life vest and just float unassumingly down the river, but a heavy rain the night before ensured no such relaxing experience.

The rain raised the water level and pushed the rapids to new heights, making the river impassable in certain areas. If you can’t go forward, and you don’t want to go back, there is only way to go—up. Aaron, Joselyn, and I scaled 100 foot rock faces, which, under normal circumstances, would not have been so bad, but, expecting a peaceful float down the river, we brought naught but our sandals. And our guides, probably expecting much of the same, did not bring climbing equipment. The result—100 foot climbs in sandaled feet with wet hands from entering and exiting the river along sharp, steep rock faces with raging rapids below. One misstep, one hand out of place and we would have plummeted to what I
can only expect would have been our death.

Fortunately, our grips held strong and we made it home safely. We did, however, have to turn around mid hike and find a different route. Aaron had almost been swept away in the rapids. We figured it was the only option.

I almost died Monday.