For the Love of Futbol

For the Love of Futbol

So as futbol starts up again here in La Villa (Villa El Carmen), both pickup and a newly founded Sunday men’s league, a series of things have been running through my head. And what this series of things ultimately led to was the realization of what futbol really means here to the youth of my town.

A recent conversation with one of my futbol buddies described life in the Villa as boring, dull, and with nothing to do… but to play futbol at days end. This struck me as a strange comment, and my initial reaction was to rebuke his claim. But try as I might to argue, I just sat there open mouthed, without a response. He was right. For Nica’s of all ages, but youth in particular, the only thing they really have to look forward to is futbol. Most don’t work, or work part time and/or crumby jobs, and the pickup games are the only source of entertainment most days in my small town. The only alternatives seem to be television, caballito, and/or a combo of the two. (Although a bottle of caballito while watching Teresa is pretty good, am I right?) It’s not as if we were back in the states and endless sources of entertainment are at our disposal due to both technology and our own personal cars. For the youth, going to the field everyday is an excuse to get out of a crowded house, escape the hassle of your mother/siblings and meet up with your friends. It keeps you sane from all the madness of the world going on outside of the pitch, and a constant to hold on to. I would go as far as to say it even provides a sense of camaraderie or brotherhood, running side by side day in and day out, with the same core group of guys. An environment like that is tough to replicate anywhere else.

I took for granted back in the states just how good I had it as kid, as we all did, with numerous devoted parents willing to coach, town sponsored youth leagues, and resources and facilities. Parents that took an active interest in their children’s interests. Organizations that made it possible for youth to have weekly practices and games. Fields that are grass instead of rock and broken glass (and don’t need to be cut by hand with machete day by day). Multiple balls and practice equipment (so that if the only ball goes flat you continue playing, instead of waiting for weeks to collectively by a new ball). But the sad reality is that none of that does exist here, and kids are forced to fend on for themselves.

So there is an important take-away from all of this. And that’s the importance of extracurricular activities with the Nica juventud. This isn’t exactly a new concept, and I think its part of every sector’s core objectives. But look back at your own childhood and remember all the after-school activities you were a part of. Those, more than the classes I took, defined who I was. So be it futbol, a youth group, English classes, or whatever you can think of, we try to do what we can to give these kids a better chance of expressing themselves and enjoying life.

So for those of you who cherished those memories as much as I do, I have a request. My lovely parents have started to collect soccer gear, both new and used, to ship down here to hand out to my community. So please, if you have anything lying around the house that you no longer use, be it cleats (sizes 7 – 11, due to the youth I’m working with is in high school), soccer balls (size 5), or practice gear, help make a difference down here. All the above mentioned items are very much so luxuries down here, and will go along way in terms of personal happiness for the youth in my town. And its easy! All you have to do is bring/send the gear over to my parent’s house in New Canaan. So if you’re interested in donating, and want more details, email me at sam.shepard12@gmail.com. And be sure to include some sort of letter of encouragement, which I can translate and read to the group!

Here and There

Two Recent Photos I think you'll all enjoy:

The Dreaded Shin Sweat is Back!

It Really is Funny Everywhere In the World. On the way to one of my more rural skools

Happy Mothers Day!

Happy Mothers Day, to the women who raised me, and morphed me into the young man I am today. You're the best Mom, and couldn't imagine life without you! and of course, Love ya like a Lobstah!

 

Five Minutes later...

And of course a big shout out to this guy, who just graduated (on time) from the University of Charleston. A big congratulations brotha man!

How Time Flies, A Year in Nicaragua

A year ago today, as pointed out by one of my best friends, I stood on the edge of a cliff. Not a cliff in the physical sense, but a mental one. I was on the precipice of starting something brand new in my life, and I didn’t know what to expect. I only realize now how woefully unprepared I was for my ‘stint’ in Nicaragua. So I did the only thing I could think to do: I closed my eyes and took that first step into the unknown.

Well I didn’t quite close my eyes. Because if I had, it would have meant missing everything going on around me. And believe me, there was a lot going on around me in this past year. It’s shocking to think that a full year has passed. I remember as if it were yesterday, stepping off that plane, onto the tarmac, and feeling as though I was hit by a ton of bricks. Yes, it was that hot, and by the time I walked past customs my shirt was soaked through, and I rapidly learned the importance of an undershirt. But time is a two-faced mistress, and despite how quickly this year may have gone by, I flip through the pages of my calendar and journal, and realize just how much I’ve accomplished and been through. I mean fuck, I’ve had more new unique encounters in the past few months than I had in the past few years of my life, ranging from leading seminars in basic accounting to bribing officers of the law, and everything in between. Things haven’t always been honky dory, and there have been times when I’ve been downright miserable and depressed. Abject poverty and unmotivated counterparts and students will do that to you. As well as not being able to communicate effectively. But, you know what?  When you’re able to conquer those moments of self doubt, you walk away a stronger person. And as a result, although it is tough for me to notice or gauge my own change, I imagine I’ve grown infinitely more in this past year, than years prior.

In this photo, you may notice we’re all holding a jar of marbles, gifted to us by one of the most genuine person I’ve met. To learn about the sentiment behind the marbles, take a look at this article: 

http://moneyover55.about.com/od/managingdebt/a/1000marbles.htm

Along this wild ride, I’ve had the good fortune to have met and been surrounded by great set of friends, and life certainly would have been different without them. check ‘em out above. And what’s incredible about my set of friends down here is that despite all the hardships that we’ve had to put up with as a group and individually, all 21 of from Small Biz 56 are still here. To put it in perspective, the Agg group we came in with is now 5 short of its original size. And in fact, it’s something of a rarity to not only all being here still, but to be so close emotionally. 20 of 21 managed to make it Matagalpa this past weekend to celebrate our year anniversary, missing only the older gentleman whose no longer participates in the night life scene of us youngin’s.

So amongst the celebration of our one year anniversary, I once again found myself on the edge of a cliff, but this time in the physical sense. And it got me thinking about what my life has become, and what I’ve become. And one quote in particular kept echoing through my mind, as I stood on the ledge, toes dangling over 40 – 50 feet of nothingness, something my boy Honest Abe said back in his hay-day: “It’s not the years in your life that count, but the life in your yours.” This quote puts in single, cohesive a train of thought a lot of what has been running through my mind these past few months. When it comes down to it only you know what you want, and only you can make yourself happy. You need to take advantage of everything that comes by your way. And if there is something you want to do, don’t wait for others to plan something, or make excuses why you shouldn’t/can’t do it. To borrow a phrase from Nike with my own spin, just fucking do it. So in this instance, and remember I’m literally on the edge of a cliff; I did just what I did last year at this time. I jumped, this time eyes wide open, not wanting to miss any part of the ride. 

Home Improvement

 

I’m sure you all have seen the show Home Improvement, with Tim “the Toolman” Allen, and his trusty partner Al. As almost always is the case in H.I., there are comically funny work related accidents, that are seemingly so exaggerated that it seems it would be impossible for something like that to happen in real life, and if it were to happen in real life, the small possibility of the actor walking away without a scratch. I use to scoff at the show, thinking how anyone could end up doing something as silly as that.

The kind of accident I’m referring to is similar to the following: you and your family are situated around the dinner table on Sunday night, eating a prized ham or turkey, with the sound of the roof repairman hammering away on shingles. But suddenly the noise is a little ladder, there is dust falling from the ceiling and in a split second, someone comes crashing through the ceiling onto the middle of your table, sending the food everywhere, and breaking the table in half. (At school we had a similar idea of one of our friends crashing through the apartment walls during a partly, landing in our neighbors living room during a romantic evening or something along those lines). Well I’m here to tell you, that something too similar to the first event happened just this past week in my own home. But instead of falling into the dining room, it was the living room, and instead of being a repairman, it was…me.

The strong winds of February had broken and cracked my roof of zinc and clay/cement sheets. I didn’t think anything of it until the rain started up again (for the first time in 4 months), and woke up to a flooded house. So I bought some tar tape to patch up the holes, and headed up top. Now to start I took what I though was every precaution. Seeing as the roof was not to strong, I stepped only where I knew there were support beams, and to reach the holes not close to beams, I had a long plank extended from beam to beam, so spread out my weight over the week roofing material. I must have been up there for 40 minutes, without any problems until it happened, almost too suddenly for me to react. I had been sitting in the same spot for a few minutes, trying carefully not to shift my weight away from the plank when suddenly I just felt the world fall from under my feet, literally. I didn’t even hear the roof crack (I don’t think), just the sense of slowly falling at first. To my credit, I reacted quicker than I would’ve ever thought: trying to go flat and spread my weight out as evenly as possible over the roof in order to prevent what inevitably was going to happen. The roof acted similar to ice that is too thin to skate on, and as you grab for the edges after falling in, that just breaks away too. So as I’m falling things seem to be going in slow-mo, and I just get this tunnel vision of my path to the floor and the things falling around me, and some how, I’m able to contort my body in mid air, and land feat first (with a small roll) amidst all of the rubble and tools. I look around stunned at the roof debris, hammer, and tar material that are surrounded by me, thinking for a split second, “How did I get down here?”, before looking up and realizing that I did really just go through the roof. And my immediate next thought was, “I’m glad my Dad, and the guys at Squash Meadow Construction aren’t here now to see this.” In a way I had felt like I had let them down after making such a rookie mistake like that. I’ve always sort of prided myself on being able to fix anything around the house without making it worse than it already was, and this was a testament to the opposite of that sentiment. Due to the fall, the adrenaline was really going, and I knew that there was a good probability that I was cut and bruised somewhere along my body, but somehow I landed without even a scratch on my body. And then I suddenly became aware of the voices outside of my house, rushing to see if I was ok. To make this all the more embarrassing, my site is right in front of the mayors office, in the middle of town, and there was plenty of people who saw the gringo on the roof one second, and then gone, being replaced by a cloud of dust the next. I’m sure my shocked shout of “Oh Shit!” certainly got there attention as well (along with the general noise that comes with falling material), and I found myself doing crowd control almost instantly to assure the world I was ok, it was just my dignity that was shaken, and my roof worse off than that morning.

The Damage

Look at the size of that hole! Maybe I should keep it as a skylight

 As it turns out, the roof sheeting doesn’t rest on the strong support beats as I initially though, but on small pieces of 1 by, which intersect over the beams, making a 1 inch gap or so in between the beams and the roofing. As the roof was weak, and weaker due to the cracks and holes, that one inch was all the room it needed to snap, and send my flying into my own living room, like a character from Home Improvement. So it’s back up today, to finally fix those holes, this time a little more prepared. So while it was a second of unprecedented terror, after all, not many people actually have the ground fall out from underneath them, and go into momentary, unexpected free fall, at this point I can look back and laugh. From an outsiders view, I can imagine it looked pretty comical. The only thing I was missing was the dinner table with the Sunday ham right in the middle to fall on to, to make the whole surreal experience seem like it was from a movie.