2012.3.19 Living Solo in a Strange Land

For more than a month now I have the opportunity, nay, the privilege to be living on my own. And while at first the aspect of living alone daunted me in every sense of the scenario, I have come to love it, and wonder how I lived with a host family for as long as I did. Oh yeah… because I had too (It’s a Peace Corps requirement that volunteers must live with a host family for their first six months of service so as to be associated with a family in the community) I guess that’s an unfair thing to say, as I did really enjoy my time with my host family, and it was there how I learned to live like a Nicaraguense. Had I moved into my own place, as I think I have mentioned before, right off the bat, I would’ve been lost and starving... literally.

Moving into my own house (alone), I was partly worried about the level of interaction I would have with my neighbors. To be more specific, I was worried my interactions with them would be low to non-existent. So to combat that problem, I relied on a technique that my freshman year orientation advisors (the best OA’s Richmond has ever seen) recommended to us: an Open Door Policy. Whenever I am able, I bring my hair and small table outside and do my work on my front stoop or porch, I keep the door wide open, and encourage neighbors to stop by and chat. The result has been so far positive, having led to more conversation with community members as well as a lot of free and gifted food. In fact, I have now grown so close with one of my neighbors, they sometimes refer to me as their son, and their children are constantly running in and around my house to entertain me.

But living alone has ushered in a new set of challenges that I had not previously experienced in my time in la villa. The root of the problem is maintaining a house without the proper resources. Wait scratch that. Rather, the root of the problem is maintaining a house without the resources I would expect to have if still living in the States. As you may imagine, one of the tradeoffs for living down here is a lack of resources or professional help. And while challenging, it really makes you look at everything in a different light, or as my Dad likes to say, you need to “Think outside the box”. A prime example of this is repairing one’s roof. In the past two weeks, due to unusually strong winds, the roof of my porch has collapsed twice, luckily not on top of me. Although the 2^nd time it was startlingly close. So not having the knowledge of how to install zinc roofing, or a professional who does, as well as not having the money to buy new slates of zinc, I was forced to look at this problem more as a puzzle, and to think outside of the box. What seemed like a hassle and big time problem at the time, turned into an afternoon I will fondly remember. I had a blast scampering around the roof, meeting up and chatting with locals who wanted to give me their opinions, balancing on thin planks, and arranging the broken pieces of my previous roof to form a water tight seal. The end result wasn’t the prettiest roof you’ll see, but it’s now stronger than before, and once again practically water resistant. I now relish the opportunity to fix any problems in my house, as, as many of you know, I enjoy building and using my hands, and like the challenge of creative problem solving. Next up on the list are some problems I have with some electrical outlets and bad wiring.

Two ways to look at this: the damage, or my new sky light

 Another fun way to pass the time that involves overcoming the problem of lack of resources has been my recent endeavor to create my own “home fitness station”. To put it simply, there is no workout equipment that I am aware of within 40km of my home. So my working out, as my good buddy Raimondi likes to tell me, is more of a caveman workout. So far I’ve managed to make some dumbbells using cut-down iron rod, quick dry cement, with some plastic molds I made. The rest of, as of now, includes cinder blocks, cobblestones, and buckets of waters. In the on-deck circle of projects are kettle balls, pull up bars, and a punching bag. We’ll see what becomes a reality as the great experiment continues.

My home workout equipment

 And when I’m not working on household projects, I’ve finally allowed myself to start reading books in English again, the current book being War and Peace. Do you know how long it is, because on a Kindle, you don’t really know what you’re getting yourself into at the start of a new book. You only know your percentage. It’s been a long journey to say the least, and despite reading for almost three weeks now, I’m only 63% through. I still got a lot of percentages to go, but it helps that it’s incredibly well written, and really captures my attention. If anyone has any good suggestions for a good book, let me know. Or if you’re really feeling generous, you can always buy a book for a near broke Peace Corps volunteer on his Amazon wishlist (http://www.amazon.com/wishlist/1SF4V4PAAK63N/ref=cm_wl_prev_ret?_encoding=UTF8&reveal=) 

…I’m just saying.

And Happy Saint Patties Day, for the first time in my life, I completely missed it. Didn’t even wear green...shameless 

 

“I didn’t have words for it then, but I do now: I am about to show the world what, and myself, what I can do.”    - Michael Lewis

Language Troubles, Training, and Nica Hospitals

So folks it’s been awhile, and I apologize for not posting in who knows how long. Well it says it right here now that I closer, almost two weeks. Between focusing on my Spanish, as well as being busy with school, I guess I just haven’t found the time to write. First off I can’t reiterate enough how long of a process it is to learn a new language, even one that is as in many regards similar to English. While I’m proficient enough to get by in any situation, I still have yet to reach that level where everything just clicks. And what’s worse, everything time that you think you have reached that next level, you wake up the next day, and it’s like you’re back at square one. As one may imagine, those days frustrate me to no end. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever done, and it’s hard to draw any parallels to it. In school, as in the workplace as well, you usually get a grasp for an assignment after a few hours or days of studying, and just like that, you’ve acquired a new skill set or ability. You become accustomed to doing the same thing over and over again, without much variation, that the once unknown ability gradually becomes 2^nd nature.  I guess a good parallel may be athletics. After weeks of playing and practicing, one becomes competent at a sport, enough so that they feel confident stepping onto the field, knowing that they no longer will make a complete fool of themselves. But to become truly great, to truly excel, it takes months, years of dedication and practice. Even when you’re not in season, you’re still fine tuning your game. It just doesn’t happen overnight. For me learning Spanish has required the same dedication one needs to be a great athlete. Natural talent only goes so far, the rest lies in the preparation and practice, and for that, I have started to be serious again about studying. No longer do I want to struggle in conversations on topics I’m not versed on. Besides just getting used to the general rapid language and slang of the Nicaraguans with whom I work and live (Fun Fact: Many other Spanish speaking countries equate the Nicaraguan Spanish to the Southern accent of the US. One time I even heard it reminds someone of Cajun English!), there are two things that have taken getting used to, that I’ve only recently started to overcome: syllables and direct translation. I had the hardest time trying to make the syllable count line up in English and Spanish. That is to say, I would have a sentence in English in my head, and while I would be translating in my head, I would try to make the syllables line up, which very rarely happens. And many times instead of saying the right thing, I would opt for an incorrect version of the translation, because it “sounded” better in my head. The other thing, which may come as no surprise, is direct translation. Many English words or sayings cannot be translated directly to Spanish, and part of the learning process is figuring out how to re-word your sentences, so that they make sense in Spanish. A few examples: You cannot end a sentence in a preposition, so with words like in, from, about, etc. So instead, they’re added to the beginning of the sentence. A simple example is you would never say, “Where are you from?”, instead you say, “From where are you”, if you were to translate directly. Or many words that we take for granted in English, for example “to get”, do not exist in Spanish.” There are four or 5 words that are similar to “to get” in spanish, but each have a different meaning and are used in different contexts. Or there is the other end of that, that a Spanish word has 3-5 meanings in English. A common one in Spanish all over the world is llevar, .which means to carry, to wear, as well as to bring. But then there are words like andar, where for some reason here in Nicaragua, could be substituted for to be, to have, to wear, and a plethora of other things. So day by day, you try and pick up on a new context of the word, and apply it to your vocabulary. So like I said, you constantly need to study and practice. And I will not be defeated.

So besides trying to avoid English (I started War and Peace at a bad time for that), I have been waist deep in starting the school year, which is at this point a “month” in. I put month in parentisis - how do you spell these thingsà (…) - because the first two weeks were more or less lost due to late registration and arranging all the schedules. But now, after all of the chaos the dust clouds are finally starting to settle, and we’re making progress. Now I’m not sure but I believe that most people think I am in front of the lass teaching. And to an extent I am, but that is not the primary focus of my work down here. When it comes to the Peace Corps, the end goal is sustainability.* Any chump can come down here and teach a class for any extended amount of time, but one they leave, then what? A year later, there’s no lasting impact, and the class returns back to its previous state.  Sure a handful of students got a better education, but that’s it. The majority of the teachers here don’t go to school to learn about entrepreneurship, in fact, none of them do. To fill up their mandatory minimum of thirty hours, teachers are assigned, or in rare cases, choose to teach the class. So this means that there business knowledge is precisely zero, and don’t know how to properly teach the subject. And this is where I step in. Every week before the allotted time period in all of my schools, I meet with the professor for 30 minutes to an hour to go over the lesson plan, and more or less teach them the theme of the day, as well as discuss different teaching styles to more effectively display our point to the students. This way, after two years of working together, each professor (theoretically) thoroughly learns the material so that when I leave they’re able to teach the class alone and properly. This requires a lot of time, and a lot prep work on my behalf; before each planning session, I sit down and try to think of every possible way to describe that day’s topic, and have an answer ready for any possible question that my counterparts may have. Once we step into the classroom, I try and structure it so my counterparts are doing the majority of the talking and activities. As for me, I’m kind of like a cheerleader: I’m there on the sidelines providing support and encouraging the team. Unlike a cheerleader though, I occasionally step onto the field in order to rectify any mistakes or clarify any misunderstandings, as well as throw in any anecdotes I may have, or introduce a new dinamica. This role is both satisfying and frustrating at the same time. Frustrating because I know I could teach this course with my hands tied behind my back, and sitting on the sideline can get a little boring after awhile. It’s always more fun to be in the spotlight, and be engaged into the classroom and with students. But there are also those days when not only does the content seem to click in the mind of the professors, but they understand it so much, and teach it so well, that it clicks in the minds of the students too. It’s on those days, when I feel like maybe I actually am accomplishing something in my time here.

On top of all the planning and teaching, I’ve been trying to stay fit, which has been difficult as of late. I was signed up to run a half marathon up in the north last weekend, but was forced to downgrade to the 10k, since I took a spill about week before and had to get sewed up. That’s right, 4 stitches in my back. Surprisingly, the hospital was quick and efficient. All said and done, I was probably in and out the door in about 40 minutes The tradeoff is what you get in speed, you lack in general hygiene. The surgery room was like something out of a horror movie, literally. At first I only noticed the sheet stained with blood covering the bed I had to lie down on, and general grime of the room – dust and old tile. But once lying belly down on the bed, I tried to distract myself from the needle going into my back, and took a closer look at my surroundings. I wasn’t thrilled to see the hair from the previous patient on my bed, or the amount of dried blood on the wall. But despite that, I walked away from all of this infection free! I’ll tell you, the back is a strange place for stitches, because no matter which way you move, your back is always in motion. So hoping that the healing process would be quicker if I actually took it easy, I listened to the doctor…kind of. 10 days is way to long to just sit tight, and after 5 days, I just wasn’t able to sit still any longer, and took a small run (the doc told me no contact sports) and 2 days after that, was race day. I wasn’t gonna sign up and not run, so I slapped on some extra butterfly bandages, and hit the pavement. And good news: although a little bit stretched out, the stitches stayed! And I learned something about 10ks. I can run them without any training…but not easily, as I struggled through the hilly course of San Rafael del Norte, posting up a time of about 54 minutes. I imagine I would have done a bit better, but I had to make an emergency  pit stop in a spectators house about 6k in, as I had some unexpected bowel movements. It’s also worth mentioning that relatively things are cold up in the mountainous north, an icy 60 degrees. It was strange, as the bus was struggling up the mountain, I suddenly felt an odd, uncomfortable sensation, and it took me a minute to realize that I was just cold, a feeling I haven’t felt in over ten months now.

So that’s it for now. I realized I jumped all around the place with this post, but a lot of things have been going through my mind.  Hitting the beach tomorrow for the first surf session since my fall, and I’m exited to get back in the water. And tomorrow, I could be bringing a new friend with me back to the house…. More on that when I am better informed.

And hey, Greece got bailed out, huh?