Buenos tardes mis amores, amigos, familia, y mas!!! This is my one month, check up, what’s shake-shakin, miss you tons, FYI for YOU in NICA, mass email. Pull your reading galsses out, crack open a fresh one, or make a snack, I have A LOT to tell you
Enjoy!
In the subject where it says, a SARDISIMO of an email- Sardisimo is spanish for absolutely largest pig! In my pueblo (neighborhood) there is a pig that is litterally, on all fours, up to my chest and about 4 feet long. Sardisimo, The Female Pig Wonder of La Paz, could probably feed all of La Paz. And I shall begin there…
¿De donde vive? Where do you live?
I live in a pueblo called La Paz, which in english translates to The Peace. I arrived in the loving (and very host-family experienced) arms of my host momma Nubia on January 15th and have been well fed and well taken care of since. I am her 6th aspirante (trainee) and there is a lot of respect and trust between us. Her acceptance of my, at first, inability to communicate was very helpful and she continues to help me with my spanish as she is a maestra (teacher) at the local school and is in constant teacher mode. Kind of like some people I know at home. . .mom…. nani!!!! So, like I said there was a HUGE communication gap the first week I was here. . . Whoaaaa, what a week. As IF not being able to form sentences was troubling enough, third day in town I came down with “small” bacteria infection. I’m not quite sure what a large bacteria infection would have entailed but 24 stomach cramps that felt like, at any moment, an alien was going to pop out of my stomach and having diarhea for 5 days was enough for me. I know, I know, it’s not the worst thing to have happen, but first week in a new world, lack of language… things were a bit rough. The good news through it all is that one day, on my way home from Lago de Nicaragua I had a very beautiful moment. I was riding in the back of the family pickup truck with about 11 other people and the sun was setting. The landscape was picturesque and the beauty of unlittered, untouched mountains and open fields touched my heart and for the first time, in that hellatius of a first sick week, I felt a warm happiness to be in Nicaragua.
The nitty gritty of my actividades diarias. daily activities
Within Corrazo, a municipal of Nicaragua, there are 5 other training towns that host 4 aspirantes each. The schedule is the same for each pueblo. Every monday, tuesday, wednesday am, and thursday we have language class from 8am – 12pm and then for another hour or two in the afternoon. In the past 5 weeks my spanish skills have taken great strides and I am happy to say that I am now cabable of saying many things that sometimes, I even impress myself. However, there is a time or two when I think to myself, “Damn cRistina, how much easier do you think things could be if I had only kept up with Stambaughs spanish class?” Well. . .Este la vida! (That’s life!) I’m here now and learning a lot of the Nica dialect. But hey, Stam, there IS a thing or two from your classes that I am remembering! On wednesday pm, friday, and saturday we have technical training classes and these are enjoyable because as much as we alllll have come to love and enjoy the company of our fellow “country(wo)men” it is a pleasure to be with the entire group (20 aspirantes total) and mix it up a bit. Speaking of mixing it up a bit, this week was pretty killer!
A Sneak Peak
In week 5 of our training, this week, all of the trainees went to visit a fellow health volunteer in different areas of Nicaragua. The purpose of this trip was to see first hand experience of what it is like to be a PCV, Peace Corps Volunteer. Since myself and 4 other aspirantes traveled to the farthest corner of Nicaragua, our adventure began on Saturday afternoon with a 12 hour bus ride to Rio San Jaun. Now, in 12 hours in the great U. S. of A. 12 hours can take you half way, or maybe all the way across Texas, from Indiana to the other side of Kansas, from Suffolk, VA to Richmond, Kentucky, or even from Fairfax, VA to the bottom on SC. I know b/c I’ve done it before. However, 12 hours in NIcaragua is not so. In fact, the distance from Managua (the capital) to Las Azucenas (the town I stayed in) is equivalent to say ohhhhh, from Sufolk to Blacksburg- a typcial 4 hour drive. What took forever was the 10 hours spent on dirt road. When I say dirt, think potholes, gravel parking lot, bumps A TON OF THEM, ROCKS, the inability to even think about anything else other than how your insides are being tossed and thrown around because of the school bus going about 40 mph through the dirt road. Oh yes. Let me not forget about the dust. I came on the bus semi clean, a little bit sweaty (hey it’s Nicaragua, i’m always sweating)… I stepped off the bus with a head full of dirt, a nose full of dust mucus, my face a new shade of tan, and my clothes looking like i was rolling around in the dirt with Sardisimo. It is an experience to have and one I will always remember. Good thing I had that pesty pyllonydal cyst removed two summers ago… The the volunteer visit…. right…
When I arrived in Las Azucenas, like most things since I´ve joined the PC, I had little expectations of what I was going to experience. That way when things happen I´m pleasantly surprised and am able to “go with it”. So, long story short, because I know there is MUCH more to fill you in on, I had an AMAZING time. I taught a few english classes: 1st time to two teachers, the second session to a group of six 8 year old, and then again on monday night to three brothers and sisters. All of these groups came to Carly, the volunteer, and said please teach me. On monday we spent a few morning hours talking to woman of her communtity about the some recent chismae (gossip), eating narranjas (oranges) (ps- we eat oranges way different here. instead of pealing the entire orange, only the outter layer is taken off and the top is cut open. then you suck out all of the juice and most of the time discard the rest, but since i´m in love with these oranges and can never seem to get enough of the vitamin c, i end up sucking out all of the juice then splitting it open to eating the insides DELICIOUS!!), and the rain that was coming down.
Another woman we spent hours talking to told us of her history as the first enfermera (nurse) in Las Azucenas and how she suffered during the war. As some of you may know the change in political party this past election was pretty major. The history of the war, the fighting between the Sandanistas and the Liberals, and the political party tension and seperation is pretty incredible, and depending on who you are talking to, their political views, or experiences, discussions can become pretty intense. Doña Juanita has an incredible history as an enfermera during this time and it was a great pleasure to have lunch with her and spend the heat of the day listening to her stories of the war. A war, that by the sound of it reminds me of what i have learned about WW1 or 2, but really, was less than 20 years ago.
On my last day in town I went on a Salidas (exit). During a salidas a doctor and a nurse, and if there is a PCV, hike out to the far reaches of the community where this is no hospital, no doctor, no Centro de Salud, nothing. Only a partera (semi trained medic with some delivery knowlege ) and brigadistas (semi trained medic). Salidas occur once a week and change on the location. In Las Azucenas, every week they visit one of the four 4 extremely rural communities and the walk is usually about 2 or more hours. We went to San Louis where there were 3 brigadistas and almost 35 families. After a 2 hour walk through mud, marsh, farm land, and bridges, we arrived in the dwelling of Jose, where we began a 5 hour day of seeing almost everyone in San Louis. The morning started off with a charla (informal, short health related lecture) about basic nutrition and then we split up and began the process of the Salidas: Doctora Karen saw patients and wrote prescriptions. Carly y yo filled out the prescriptions, wrote directions, and/or orally told them what to do as a lot of them do not know how to read. Enfermera Irma gave vaccinations, weighed babies, and dispensed birth control pills. I almost got to help out with a PAP Smear but in consultation we found out that the woman had recently had sex within the last five days and thus was unable to have one done. When I first arrived in Jose´s home, and saw the skeleton thin dogs, the 19 year old mother, the 21 year old mother with 2 kids, one after another incredibly young pregnant or already with kids, woman walk through the door- my heart sank and i was flooded with question after question. How was I going to able to communicate to them? What was life like for these people? How do they live day to day? What is their happiness? Why is she 21 and with a 4 year old? All throughout training we are told of the “problem” of teenage and young mother pregnancy. 50% of mothers in Nicaragua are 20 years old. Another 20% is 15 years old and 45% is under 15 years old. This isn´t a problem, it´s an epidemic.
All through out the day, as I wrote prescription after presciption, spoke to woman after woman, child after child- I felt a certain spark inside. I thought about how proud my dad would be, me sitting in this house, speaking spanish, playing the part of a semi medic, helping these people. About how excited i am for myself that in time I was going to be “coming in to my own” in my site and be out in the field doing stuff like this. As “simple” as it sounds, writing out prescriptions, I felt very important. This community has no access to health care, electricity, barely water, and at most, a good supply of food. They live in wooden houses, cook over fire, die of parasites or pregnancy, have more animlas than they can feed. These people know struggle in a way we may never. It was simple work, but the most fullfilling I have ever known.
At the beginning of training, I was totally bugged with the question, what am I going to be doing, what is my “title”? There was no one specific answer of what i was going to do as a volunteer, but after this trip i realized I can be or do anything I want.
The two sides of the shiney coin
There are two beauties of being a PCV in Nicaragua. One, the job description. Unlike a teacher, or doctor, or engineer- I have no one specific job description. Health volunteer… the possiblities are endless. AIDS/HIV, sexual health, STI´s, nutrition, mother hood, family planning, etc. I can do all or one. When I am inducted on March 23 and am sent out to my site the next day, I am given a ball and can roll with it in which ever direction I choose. Two the Nica culture! As most of you know, and probably just LOOOOVE about me 
, I´m pretty good and going with the flow, taking my time, letting plans happen and unfold as they come. Here in Nica culture, I seem to have a solid grasp of this concept. I try not to have an agenda because flexibility is REALLY a virtue that is constantly practiced here. Things run muy tranquillo (very easy). There isn´t the rush, rush, rush, of deadlines. There isn´t a solid concept of urgency. At times the Nica tiempo concept can be a little frustrating. Nica time usually runs about an hour behind the scheduled time. If I have a dinner date, or group meeting at 4, it will most likely kick off closer to 5. Like I said muuuuuuy tranquillo. Flexibility, understanding of Nica tiempo, and a tranquillo(a) way of doing things will take me a long way!
What else can I tell you about Nica?
MAAAAAAAN do these nicas know how to pack it in to a van! Ok, take your average VW van. Normally fits about 9 people, right? Now give a van to a Nican and they completely redesign the thing. Imagine if you can: three rows facing foward, teh back most bench holds four people, the two benches that are “suposed” to hold three people now holds 4 because of the fold out seat they added. There is a bench that faces the front most bench, so the people are looking at each other. A bench inbetween the one previously mentioned and the front seats, then usually there are three or four people in the front (including the driver) depending on size. Oh, and let me not forget about the two or three guys that will be bending over you, backside half way out the window, armpit in your face. At most I have been in a microbus with 28 people. Of course the door popped off half way down the road and then we were pulled over by a policeman and, luckily, there was another La Paz bus passing by who stopped and was able to take some of the passengers. It´s chaotic, totally irrantional, completely unsafe if we were to crash, but i love it and it puts a grin on my face just writing this to you. 
So I have been sitting here for a solid 3 hours, writing emails, thinking of you, finishing up this email, and telling you all about my life here in Nicaragua. I smell, I´m hungry, and I need some sunlight and air. I think of you all dearly and dream about the things from home often. I am very happy here and wish you the same. Now, off I go, in to the streets where women sell pan dulce (sweet bread, my addiction), pour kids tapping me on the side and saying, “Darme un peso”, the market is filled with freshness, and a blend of fruits, venduras, nacatamales, and men yelling from a microbus, “LA PAZ LA PAZ PAZZZZZZ!” My home away from Home.
*much love, one love*
¡Que La Via Bien!
cRistinag.
