The End

As I imagine comes with wrapping up any job, I absolutely swamped with work I had to do to be able to end me service as a volunteer. Add that to trying to accomplish all the projects I had hoped to in services, plus saying goodbye to my friends in Villa el Carmen and other volunteers, I felt like I hadn't had a minute to breath for the last month. Every minute of the day was planned for some type of activity, despedida, or project (including what I like to call "Board Short" Financial Advising). So as quickly as it all started, it has now come to end. I rang the bell, literally, in the peace corps office a week ago, and have had plenty of time to think and dwell about what this experience has meant to me, and how it has played such a large role in my life.

I'm sure, that as time passes I'll come to realize more and more just what an impact my two years in Nicaragua had on me, but I here are some final take aways about what I learned.

- The value of downtime and building relationships. In the US, we're often to focused on the next project or the next activity, and running around. Many of us rarely had time to eat lunch, eating at our desks, or in the car, so as to be unhindered in our next activity. Down here, more time is spent on the process, than the end game, where building the relationship and getting to know someone is a lot more important. On a personal level, this was one of the toughest things I needed to adjust to. I'm all about being as efficient as possible, and getting things done, and the last thing I wanted to do, was sit down on someone's porch for half an hour sweating in a plastic chair, learning about the ins and outs of their family dynamic, when all I really wanted was to buy some fresh cheese. But in taking time to get to know my neighbors, community members, and counterparts, I was able to learn so much more about the past here, and how everyone was effected by it. It led to more interesting stories and a stronger bond. Sometimes, we would just sit, just not even talk, just being comfortable each company. The silence didn't matter. A close friend of mine, Danny Raimondi, used to push for conversations like that in college, but I always dismissed saying a conversation like that needs to start organically. I was wrong, and feel like I owe Raymundo an apology. Without taking the time to sit down and talk, and really get to know them, you never really develop a strong bond and relationship. And thats what is important in life, sharing a strong bond and relationship with the people you love.

- In order to grow you need to constantly push yourself outside of your comfort zone, and do things that scare you. It's easy to stay trapped in what my friend Mishka described as "Static comfort". By the way Mike, that post you wrote meant more to me than I ever really let on, and I thank you for the kind words you sent my way. By not challenging yourself, limiting yourself to what you know, you just go through life aimlessly, settling for whatever comes your way. I never want to settle. Never. I constantly want to grow and become a more complete person. I used to be terrified of making a fool of myself in the eyes of others, but that just became a daily facet of life when learning spanish. It forced me to study and practice, and constantly mak a fool out of myself, but hey I got better. Plus, that sense of fear or sense of being scared, it just makes you feel that much more alive, as if you're truly living. Maybe its corny to say, but it makes you feel as you have something to live for. And I found out too, that when nudged, I'm a very capable person, capable of accomplishing any goal I set for myself.

This experience has been incredible, and I wouldn't change it for the world. Although I miss my friends and family terrible, I'm even a little reserved about going back to the US. VIlla el Carmen has transformed into my second home, and I'll always carry a part of that town with me.

So what comes next might you say? Well first and foremost life comes next, and I fully plan on taking advantage of my spanish skills, being in central america, and recent "readjustment" allowance from the peace corps to travel around central america, canoeing, hiking, but mostly surfing. After what was a 6 day canoe excursion along the Rio San Juan, the border of Nicaragua and Costa Rica out to the remote Atlantic Coast, I now set my sites northward, and the surfing safari is about to begin, starting my way in Nicaragua, and slowly making my way up the Pacific Coast to El Salvador, Guatemala, and Southern Mexico. And when I get home around mid september, the job hunt begings.

And as suddenly as it started, that concludes the saga of the Wandering Shepard. Thank you all for taking the time to read about my tales, I hope they kept you all interested. And as I told all of my Nica friends as I left, "Te Deseo exito en todos tus esfuerzos futuros. Que te vaya bien!"

INSIDEOUT Project

While down here, I’ve participated in a fair amount of awesome projects and inspiring initiatives. But what I  participated in last week was by far the most creative (in the artistic sense of the word), and the most fun. But what I want to focus on is the creative side. I’ve consider myself a creative person when it comes to problem solving and perspective; seeing things differently and using them in a way their not intended to, to satisfy a different need. But artistically, I got nothing, which is why I was so pumped to be asked to help out with INSIDEOUT project.

INSIDEOUT (insideoutproject.net) is a photography project at a world-wide level, with the intention of exposing the issues, problems, and message of the common person using blown up (3 by 4 ½ ft) photos and posting them in public spaces, as well as trying to inspire creativity and street art at a world wide level. The project was started by a French graffiti artist who goes by JR, who after presenting at the innovation conference TED Talks (http://www.ted.com/, which you should all totally take a look at it), won their grand prize to make his dream a reality. After a few months, there are now literally hundreds of initiatives or actions as they’re referred to, all over the world. For those of you in the NYC area, you may have noticed the photos of over Time Square. That is an example of an INSIDEOUT action, and take a look at the website to find the action nearest you, as well as hear JR talk about his idea. And the best part is, anyone can apply for it. So when two of my volunteer friends heard about it in January, they wasted no time in reaching out to JR and the INSIDEOUT team.

Our Boss!

Each action has their own theme, rallying behind an idea of the organizers of the local action. Our idea was double pronged. First, we wanted to present to the Nicaraguan village who the real leaders of the community are: the women. Because it’s the woman who in most cases take care of the family, raise the kids, and manage the household money. Second, we wanted to pay tribute to the women who have positively affected our experience and lives while living in Nicaragua the past two years. So seven of us reached out to our host moms, friends, counterparts, and their kin to participate in the project. In the end 47 women participated in the project, including my host mother and sister from Niquinohomo and my host mother from Villa el Carmen.

Two worlds collide: My host mother from Niquinohomo on the left and Illa el Karmen on the Right

Helping to Paste her photo

Me and my ma!

 Now if you were going to pay tribute to the women and mothers of Nicaragua, what could be the best day to it? The Nicaraguan Mothers Day of course, which is exactly what we did. Now not to offend any mothers back at home, but Mothers Day here is huge…school is canceled and most business close. 40 of the 47 women attended the event, and we spent the entire morning posting prints on predetermined buildings in Granada (using wheat paste), and celebrated our beloved “mothers” with an all-expense paid for lunch and flowers. Ma, had I been home, you can bet I would’ve done the exact same thing for you! And those 7 that didn’t come lived too far away, or were way too old…like 92 or 93 years old. The youngest girls participating were only about 18 months old, and in some cases we had 4 generations of women from the same family participating! The Ambassador herself came to help out, as well as the Peace Corps country director!  To really see what the event like take a look at the photos on the book: https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.665053855175.1073741827.59401052&type=3 And a shout out to Kacie Gartland for taking all the great photos!

The project got national press, as it was featured in the countries two main papers, as well as featured in an international travel blog: http://wanderlustandlipstick.com/blogs/globalsnapshots/2013/06/02/inspired-by-the-women-of-nicaragua-an-inside-out-project-by-peace-corps-volunteers/

For more info about JR and his work, follow the link here: https://www.artsy.net/artist/jr

Me and volunteers who put it all together

Some local supporters! I guess the guy on the left was none too impressed!

 Now as I mentioned, I hadn’t considered myself a creative person artistically, but this project opened my eyes. I now find myself pretty fascinated by street art, and the idea of experimenting with it. Graffiti doesn’t interest me as much as the medium we used, being paper prints, pasted using wheat paste (which is a combination of flour, sugar, and water). Seeing as I’m leaving Villa el Carmen in just about a month from now, I’m now considering leaving behind a couple of extra souvenirs around town, as well as markers on my travels home. The only thing I’m debating about is my design…I’ll let you all know when I come up with something. And as for a tag name, what do you all think about S’uel? Any other suggestions?

The Nature of Fear

I want to start this post out with a foreword. Mom, if you’re reading this isn’t meant to scare you, or anyone who cares about my well being. That being said, I feel like it’s important to share my reaction to what for me, was a particularly frightening experience.

Looking up, I knew I was in trouble. Lying on my stomach on my surfboard the wave was easily ten times bigger than I was, and I was stuck right in front of its path. There was no where to go, no where to flee, just a lot of water about to crash down on top of me. When I walked out into the shallows that day, board in arm, I knew what I was getting into. The surf report said the waves would be ten to twelve feet tall. Some of you may be asking what I was thinking, if I had known that. But the truth is, I have surfed and caught waves that big before. I figured I was fine, naively not taking into account that not all waves and conditions are created equally. There is a big difference between a clean-breaking wave and one that detonates all at once. While previously I had experienced the former, clean wave, I now found myself face-to-face with the latter.

Now cut back to me on the board, looking up at this big fellow. Fear didn’t creep slowly through my veins, all the sudden it was there. My heart was pumping hard and my body felt super alive and aware of the danger it could be in. My mind was racing, analyzing all the possible options and consequences for the present situation. For that moment, my life was simplified to three options: Do I ditch the board and try and swim under the wave? Do I turn around and try to ride it? Or do I face it head on?

After I had paddled in, shaken, but ok and safe, I sat down on the beach to go over what had just happened, and two things came to mind. The first was the nature of my fear and my reaction to it. It didn’t scare me to continuing surfing; it’s not like I got off the board and swore I would never surf again. Rather the opposite happened. It seemed to light a fire under me, to prepare myself better, so I’d never find myself in that situation again. The next time, I’ll be stronger and more capable, or better yet, I’ll be able to recognize the dangers of the situation. But I also realized that I would never be as scared again, as I was in that instant. From then on things wouldn’t be necessarily easier in those situations, but I would be more comfortable with that fear, and make more informed decisions. It reminded me of my first day standing in front of a Nicaraguan classroom, expected to say something yet not knowing really a word of Spanish. I froze and was almost hyper-ventilating. Since that fateful day, the classroom has unfazed me. Fear I think, is often associated too much in a negative light*. Fear of failure, fear of change, or fear of anything is a healthy part of life, and without it you can’t really grow as a person. If everything is always comfortable and easy, you’re not challenging yourself. You’re not living. To be clear, I’m not talking just about extreme-risk taking, such as bigger wave surfing or sky diving. I’m also referring to everyday things such as asking out a pretty girl on a date, trying a new pastime at the risk of embarrassing yourself in front of the masses, or moving to a new city. Static comfort, to steal a phrase from Mike Thomas, also means static growth. If you want to grow, you need to confront your fears head on, and hang out for the ensuing ride on.

The second realization was in the form of a quote I think is fitting in the situation: “Everyone has a plan, until they’re punched in the face.” Wise words from a not so wise man, Mike Tyson. You can tell yourself how you’ll react in a certain situations, but until they actually happen, you never know. Will it be fight or flight? There isn’t a universal answer for that question, as it depends on the situation. In my case, the correct answer was fight. Had I bailed to swim under the wave, it’s probable my leash may have snapped, as it was homemade from recycled plastic, and I would’ve been stuck in the impact zone, far from shore, without anything to keep me afloat. Had I tried to ride the wave, it would’ve crashed on top of me, ripping me from my board, and dragging me under for a long while. So I was left with paddling into, and attempting to duck dive the board under the wave, to avoid the bulk of the power of the wave. But like I said, it was a big fellow, and I still got pummeled and held under longer than was comfortable. But I walked away unscathed, now knowing how to better handle the situation.   

*Of course, in certain situations, especially when life threatening, fear most certainly is something negative.

Whats up In May

So Sports Fans, I apologize that my posts are growing fewer and farther in between. The truth is that I’ve been super busy, a mix of work and pleasure. Many members of my community have mentioned to me, “Estaba perdido, Samuel” (which literally translates to “you were lost”, but means more along the lines of “you haven’t been around”), which only half true. The true part is that I have been out of the community affair amount for X-Rays, despedidas, and pleasure trips (read: not sex trips). The other half of the time I’be been running around my municipality working, or trapped in my house trying to type up one of the many reports I need to hand in before I’m allowed to officially leave Nicaragua, which is now only a month and a half away!

A month and a half away…throughout my entire service it never seemed like I would get to this point. And now that I’m here, I’m reminded of any age old Shepard Family Motto: Finish Strong. Now is not the time to get lazy, and coast through my work, in fact in means the opposite. There are still so many things that I want to do and accomplish, on a personal level and a work related level. And what’s more, now after two years, I really have a handle for how things work, what to expect, and how to get things done. Projects just keep presenting themselves in front of me, and end of service reports aside; I’m busier than I’ve ever been. And to top it off, I need to try and see all my friends as often as I can before we part ways for who knows how long (a sadder thought among many good ones).

So what have I been up to that past few weeks…work stuff first. I headed out to the eco-lodge in my municipality, Los Cardones, to work with the employees on financial education (AFE). AFE is a new PC Nicaragua initiative that deals with, you guessed it, further educating adults on how to manage their finances. So I spent two hour sessions with the employees discussing the importance of saving, the different type of family expenses, saving plans, the advantages of saving vs. buying on credit, and then individually tracking their own monthly incomes and expenses. While I’m sure the seminars were beneficial to them, I was equally impressed with what I learned and witnessed. First, it was interesting to plan out monthly expenses and salaries. Although the majority had guessed how much they actually make and spend, it was the first time they actually saw their yearly salary. Before the charla, the owner and I put together a spreadsheet of the actual monthly (and in effect yearly) salaries of the employees. Most eyes were popping out of their heads.

 

Now going into the charla, my only real expectation was that most Nicaraguans didn’t know why they should save, y por consiguiente, don’t save. I couldn’t have been more wrong. The first activity we did was (anonymously) write on sticky notes why its important to save, and I was flooded with great answers: for my children’s education, to improve the quality of life, repair my house, for retirement, and for unforeseen health problems among others. So re-checked my premises, and deviated from my original plan, doing the same sticky note dinamica, but with a different question: Why is it hard to save? Without getting into too much detail, because I could go into length about it, the two main problems that the average Nicaraguan faces are unforeseen costs/problems and no institution to help them save. The first problem is easy enough to understand: a family member gets sick or moves back into the home, kids need materials for school, cost of living goes up, etc. Or worst case scenario, the patriarch is a drunk, and spends a large portion of the monthly salary on booze, tobacco, and women… a sad reality of life down here that most families see in one way or another. But what’s more problematic is that there are no institutions available to the average rural Nicaraguan, neither physically or literally. Physically in the sense that, banks are (largely) only in the department capitals, which require up to a full day of travel to get there. Literally in the sense that, there is a literal mountain of paperwork that is required to open a bank account, and if you manage to fill all of that out correctly, you need a relatively large amount of money to open an account, and then transaction cost are too high to make it worth it in many cases. The truth is that large institutional banks don’t typically want small accounts, because it’s just as costly to maintain small accounts as large accounts. The drawbacks can outweigh the benefits, which helps to explain all the paperwork and barriers to open an account. Although is more thoroughly explained in the book “Poor Economics”, a read I highly recommend.

On other work related notes, I’ve been busy organizing the second Opportunity Fair of Villa el Carmen, which means weekly emails and phone calls to different Universities and Vocational Schools in and around Managua. College isn’t for every student, an idea I think is just as applicable to students in the states as students in Nicaragua, so this year I put a bigger effort in finding Vocational schools that would be willing to attend. And since come the end of the semester, the emprendedurismo teachers can no longer count on my support, I’ve arranged a three session charla, where all the professors and I will meet up to discuss the more complex topics of the second semester, build a network of trust between themselves, and discuss the best practices for each topic. Believe it or not, it was only the third or fourth time where we were all united under the same roof at the same time. Due to the isolation of each school from the others, and the lack of public transportation to some of the communities, its never easy to reunite everyone.

Now for the fun stuff. Spent a night up in Esteli to party with the business group that came a year after my arrival to see the city one more time and say some early farewells to friends from that group. In the process, I got to take a look at my first Nicaraguan pro sports game, which was a blast. It reminded me a lot of a college soccer game, and made me think that if I only could maintain better shape, I could probably compete! The next day I had my own soccer game, and scored for the first time in awhile. So surprised, adn excited, I jumped up, fist pumped, and yelled booyah. Embarrassing, I know, but I was excited. The following weekend I spent some time surfing with a close friend, who is leaving early to attend grad school. That goodbye really got to me for some reason; I sort of realized that this really is the end, and that there is a solid possibility that I’ll never see some of these folks again.

But the big daddy of trips was this past weekend, where myself and 5 friends traveled east, out to Bluefields on the Atlantic Coast for Palo de Mayo, the annual celebration of the newly arrived rain. Although, since it rains there almost 9 months of the year, I wouldn’t think this would be anything to celebrate. Also, to go back a step or two, the Atlantic side of Nicaragua is like a different world. If we take a trip back in time, sports fans, while the Pacific side and central region of the country was still under Spanish control, the Atlantic Coast remained an English colony for years. As was the custom back then to keep costs low and control global trade, the English brought slaves with them from Africa. This accounts for the large African-American population on the East coast, that speak both Spanish and English Creole, and have their own very unique culture. On top of that, that indigenous population that still exists, the Miskitos, also lives out on the coast too, adding to the cultural phenomenon that is Bluefields. Routinely, while I was walking down the street, I would turn hearing what I thought was English, only to realize it was English Creole (which is almost like a different language), only for the person being addressed to respond in Spanish. The volunteers out there typically walk away from there service speaking alright Spanish, and great Creole. In fact, because it’s so different out there, the coastal region is an autonomous region of Nicaragua that governs itself in certain ways.

Best Bus Ride Eve4!

No Roofs, Just a plastic tarp to hold on to as we're cruising down river

We thought what better time to experience the culture of the coast than attend Palo de Mayo. I could try to explain it in words, but I don’t think it would do it justice. So instead I leave you with some photos of the main celebration, which revolves around dancing…and man those girls can move!

¡What’s to Come!

INSIDEOUT Project

Opportunity Fair

World Map/Family Planning

Happy Mothers!

Mom I love you with all my Heart! And here´s the video to prove it!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=591SIL8Tstk&feature=youtu.be

Hey there sports fans

Hey there sports fans, un rato de no verles. I need to apologize up front for not writing for so long, its been almost over a month, but what a month it has been. I feel like I’ve barely had time to come up for air I’ve been so busy, and for awhile too, I was trying to avoid English. Plus with so little time left down here in my official service, I feel like I need to take advantage of every moment possible.

Last time I wrote, I was going through some emotional goodbyes with the first two people from our group to leave. And as I mentioned last time, I thought it was going to take a long time to realize they were gone. Turns out I was wrong.

In the middle of this past April, we – the business and agriculture volunteers of group 56 – had what is called our Close of Service Conference, also known as COS. In this two day... we’ll call it a workshop, we go over all the procedures that we need to do to officially (and properly) end our service in Nicaragua, as well as go over what comes next. By saying “what comes next”, I mean discussing about how to leverage our Peace Corps experience into making yourself an ideal candidate in any job, and maybe more importantly how to put that experience into written form through resumes and cover letters, and later in verbal form through interviews. Although a lot of it seemed like common sense, I know that I also walked away from the workshop with a better sense of how to start preparing for life after Nicaragua. So on a professional side, it was much needed and helpful in organizing my affairs.

On a social side, it was also a very unique occasion. This was the first time since swearing in as volunteers on July 31^st, 2011 that we – all the 56 volunteers still here – had been together in the same room. I hadn’t seen some of the aggies desde we swore in, almost two years ago, let alone all of them at the same time. It seems as sort of a reward for sticking in out so long, COS took place in Granada, a colonial city of Nicaragua with a fun night life, good food, and comfortable accommodations. Hot Water! Air Condition! Bacon! Yes Please! It had been my first hot water shower probably since my folks were here in December. That holds true for bacon as well. Ahhhh. Sweet, delicious bacon. You can bet your ass that the first thing I eat back in the states will be the biggest, greasiest bacon cheeseburger I can get my hands on. So naturally, as a group, aggies and bizneros alike, we took advantage of our locations to go out at days end to catch up and dance the night away. Dancing, similar to hot water, A/C, and bacon, is typically not something you will find in a typical peace corps site, so you got to take advantage of the opportunity while you its there. More than anything though, it was just nice to be able to lazily relax around close friends, and just talk, and laugh, about whatever in English. The times we will see each other are rapidly dwindling, a sad fact. And because another two from our ranks are leaving early, in fact in the next week, that group will almost certainly never be reunited again. I plan on writing more about this phenomenon in the future.

I emphasized speaking in English, because up until COS, I had almost exclusively been trying to read, listen, and write in Spanish, because our COS Conference is the same time as our LPI – Language Proficiency Exam. The peace corps loves there acronyms in case you hadn’t noticed. This would be the last chance, and first desde swearing-in that I would be evaluated. Typically, I don’t put much importance in something like this; I don’t often feel like I need to be justified of my own competence. But with my language skill, it was different. Sure at this point I can get by, talk with anyone, and maneuver through any sort of situation that I confront. But there is huge difference between getting by, and mastering the language. The process of learning a language is different…and so long that it’s tough to gauge your own progress. Your improvement is gradual, and the daily frustration is always there. Maybe early on the frustration came from how to conjugate an irregular verb in the present tense, but now the frustration comes from figuring out, for example which preposition you need to use after a certain verb to make sure the sentence makes sentences, on top of correctly identifying the tense of the prior verb, and the adjectives that come with it. So getting by is alright, but it by no means you know the language. I wanted to know that my hard work, my daily frustration was not in vain. So that was one of the reasons that I hadn’t been writing, in preparation for that. And guess what sports fans…the hard work paid off. I scored much higher that I had expected, and left the office fist pumping and shadow boxing my way out of the training office!

And to keep making up excuses, something I usually scold my students for, I haven’t had a ton of internet access. That’s partly due to the lights going out every night for that past week – my prime internet time. But it also has to do with a project I was involved with, what is known as a tech exchange. I have a friend, an aggie, who is working with a women’s group on formalizing a business. Now my aggie friend, Ali, has no business experience, and the group had hit a wall with how to proceed forward. So she approached me, asking to come help out, and with particular gusto, I said yes. I was particularly excited, because despite numerous promises to go out to an aggie site, I had yet to do it.

In the eyes of the rest of the volunteers down here in Nicaragua, us business volunteers have it easy: we tend to live in bigger sites, which typically means ready available produce, markets or grocery stores, a bank, running water, electricity, and internet, whereas aggies tend live in smaller sites, km’s away from the closest highway or major city, in communities no bigger that 50 houses or a few hundred people. That was the peace corps experience I thought I was getting, so I relished the idea of actually living like that, if only for a weekend.

I was a little astonished upon arriving to her site, because I would never call it a town; rather a small community that happens to live along the same stretch of road, in the middle of no where about ten kilometers off the highway. We had hitched in, and hopped off the back of the pickup truck a little before getting to her site. We had an errand to do, buy the chicken we were going to eat that night. Seeing as where we were, I was skeptical where we could buy chicken. That is until we got to the patio of the nearby houses, and saw all the live chickens running around. You guys see where I’m going with this yet? We caught the chicken we wanted, tied up its feet (so as it couldn’t run away), and started the walk back home. Things really escalated, when we got back to the house, when my friend gave me a funny a look, and notions to our (still alive) chicken. Gulp. If we didn’t want to go hungry, someone had to kill that chicken. And being the new guy to the campo, that someone was me.

The odd thing about killing a pollo, is that most folks typically don’t use a knife and cut the head off on a chopping block. Instead, there’s the oddly satisfying style of grabbing it by the neck, and whipping it in a circle like motions to snap its neck. I had seen this done multiple times, and it seemed so easy, had yet to do it myself. I kept reassuring myself this was dinner, and without a second though, I grabbed the little guys throat, and started whipping it around. Turns out its not as easy at it looks, and I more than likely tortured this poor fellow. After five or six full turns, the neck was terribly damaged, but not broken. And like a parent disappointed in a young child for not fulfilling a seemingly basic task, my friend took the pollo from me, grabbed a machete, and put it out of its misery. My manliness was definitely knocked down a peg or two in that moment. 

Aside from that mishap, the rest of the trip was a success. We cooked with firewood (still a common practice in the majority of the country), “harvested” our produce from her garden, and I met the community. The workshop I presented (on the importance of costs, prices, and market studies) was surprisingly well received, and it seems like they learned from it, as Ali reassured me.

So that’s my past month in a nutshell. Still in the schools on a daily basis, but starting to wrap up that, and focus on other projects I’m interested in doing before finishing up my service. This week I’ll be giving some financial education classes to the employees of the eco-lodge in the municipality, I’be been planning the second annual Opportunity Fair, and am working on making a World Map at one of my rural schools, that would include mandatory participation in a Family Planning charla. So I’m staying busy until I finish up. My official last day is July 11^th, two months from Saturday! What a long, strange trip this has been, ehh?

Spring Break, I mean Semana Santa

So as quickly as the school year began, we already found ourselves in our first week of vacation. And although only a month had gone by, I already felt like I needed a break from the schools; an opportunity to relax, and vent/talk about the future with my fellow peace corps friends.

Unlike the beginning of last year, I got off to a rocky start, although not for lack of effort. Arranging a schedule with 7 different schools, which are all in different communities, is somewhat of a nightmare. It took a lot of phone calls and first hand visits/meetings with the principals to get my way…sort of. I ended up with a workable schedule that allows me to get to all of my classes, but with not a whole lot of wiggle room. Or better said, not a whole lot of time to plan and prepare with my new profe’s. One of my other counterparts was promoted to sub-principal, which puts her in an administrative role, out of the classroom. Enter first new the counterpart.  In another school, the student population increased, and consequently, an additional teacher was hired to help fill the void. Among her other classes that new teacher is also taking over one of the two sections of emprendedurismo. The old counterpart continues teaching the other section. Enter new counterpart numero dos, bringing my total counterpart total up to 8 for the semester.  It would just be too easy if I continued to work with the 7 same teachers; Nicaragua had to throw me one last curveball in my final semester.

So I have two reactions to this new challenge. The first is that, at least, both of my the previous, trained counterparts are still at both school, and will be able to provide support to my new counterparts when I’m gone come July. My second reaction questions the sustainability of my work. It’s taken at least a year and half to train each professor to an acceptable level where they understand all the concepts of the course, and are able to give the class solo. I don’t have that much time with my two new counterparts. I’m starting from scratch with both, and only able to work with them intensively for one semester. That means on top of weekly planning sessions, I will need to hold additional group trainings to make sure they at least will possess a basic understanding of the more complex topics of the next semester. It’s disconcerting, and feels as if my work with promoted teacher was all in vain. Sure the students of the previous years got something out of it, but what about the future generations? If teachers are promoted (in this case), quit, are transferred to other schools, or told to teach other classes, my work of 1 ½ to 2 years just goes down the drain. So among the daily frustrations of life in the schools and constantly debating internally about what comes next after Nicaragua, I’m struggling to find reason and purpose in the time I’ve spent year. For that, a vacation was well needed.

And what a vacation it was! Down here during Semana Santa, pretty much the all business and daily life gets put on hold, and the whole country flocks to the beaches, lakes, and rivers. Although the beaches can be hectic and out of control, I was no different from the rest of the country, and spent most of the week along the playa, with close friends. The biggest differences between the rest of the country and I, were that I went to the remote beaches where the good surf was, and more importantly, that I can swim. Despite the rush to the beach, most Nicaraguans don’t know how to swim, or swim well. Consequently, due to both small currents, and inebriation, the amount of drowning during Semana Santa is high – there were over 50 reported last year alone. The last thing I wanted was to be at a crowded beach, and have to become a lifeguard again.

So my friends and I met up in Popoyo, a more remote playa in the Rivas department that is a surfer haven with multiple breaks that allows surfing at almost any time of the day. Lefts and rights, beach break, reef break, and when the swell is right, a very hollow barrel, that’s world renown. So needless to say, I had a fun time, which was compounded by being surrounded by many of my close friends. My closest guy friends in the peace corps were all there, some new girl friends that I feel lucky to have gotten to know, a UR friend, and a group of guys who I refer to as the Frisco boys – my old friend and SF roommate Scotty, and friends Matty, Anders, and Graham. You could say we had just as much fun out of the water, as we did on the waves. I could explain it, but a picture tells a thousand words, enjoy!

Staying Sane

It’s already mid-March, and things are only now in full swing in all of my schools…a month after the first day. Believe it or not, it took some of my schools up until the beginning of this week to arrange a fixed schedule. Something I find unusual and counterproductive is that students don’t need to register before the start of the school year…they have until the end of the first week of classes. Consequently, class sizes change, which affects the quantity of teachers needed at the school. So it’s not really until the third week when everything starts to fall into place, and routine is established.

The start of the school year brings along many welcoming things after two months of vacation, the top three being a fixed routine/schedule, weekly work-oriented goals, and the opportunity to practice speaking Spanish in front of large groups. I particularly like the last one. But like any other job, the learning opportunities and good are also accompanied by frustrations and stress. And there are some weeks, like this last one, where the frustrations just out number the joys of your job. So what do you do? You look for ways to burn off those frustrations and relax.

I was fortunate enough this week to have a handful of activities to take my mind off the frustrations of the school system. Last week, was the 7^th Annual San Rafael del Norte Media-Maraton, in memory Padre Orrinoco, a priest that is up for sainthood from the area. The race offers two distances, 10k and 21k (half marathon) through the very hilly and mountainous terrain of the north. Last year running the 10k, the hills definitely got to me, and I was huffing and puffing through the entire run. Me costó mucho. I may also have had stitches in my back at the time. So it was encouraging for me to not only complete the 21k, but do it faster than I had ever previously. Simply put, it’s pleasant to know hard work and training actually does pay off. What’s also been interesting to see, is that there is definitely a small running community within the Peace Corps, as I saw the same faces in Jinotega as I did on Ometepe. Usually, the only familiar faces you see are the others from your sector; small business mostly hangs out with other bizneros, for example. It’s been a good change of pace to count myself amongst a “cross –sectoral” group, see new friends, and learn a little bit more about other’s perspectives of life down here. 

                                          

But with no more races on the docket until June it is time to focus more on futbol and surfing. And both couldn’t have come at better times. Yesterday was the opening weekend of my municipality’s futbol league, now in its third season and with 14 teams. The number of teams has tripled since its birth almost a year ago, a good sign that it will be here to stay for an unforeseeable future. My team, Los Blancos, started off on the right foot, with a 4-3 win. What puts a fun twist on the games for me is that I often play against my students, or ex-students, who see a completely different side of me. Profe Samuel tends to be more soft-spoken, light hearted, and approachable in the classroom, while futbolista Samuel is a bit more ruthless, takes less shit, and knows how to both give and take a hit.

And even better news, the swell is back! Although I have only been able to surf sola una vez in the past month and change (¡Que barbaridad!), the word has been the waves just haven’t been there. So it was a relief to hit the beach on Friday, and find steep, shoulder high faces breaking left and right, fairly consistently. It always amazes me how that first wave of the day just changes everything. You forget the problems in the schools, the time conflicts of other projects, and you’re reduced to a state of pure happiness. I feel like this guy trying to describe the feeling. Truthfully though, there’s nothing better than overcoming that momentary uncertainty (holy shnikes that wave is big), dropping in, and just charging down the line. After jumping off the board, and emerging from the white water, I could barely contain my happiness. Scratch that I couldn’t contain my happiness. Even before I really had breath in my lungs I was shouting with excitement, yelling my war cry. It makes me smile just thinking about it, and I wait with anxiousness for my next session.

ya boi!

 The start of this school year also brings along the realization that this is my last semester in Nicaragua. That’s only 5 months. And if time passes as quickly as it has over the last two years, it’s going to fly by. It’s a funny thing time. I arrived here in May 2011 and knew that my post would last two years. But as time passed, and that 2 years became 1 ½ years, and then a year, I still kept up the mentality that I had 2 years left ahead. Then suddenly, it was 2013, and I had only 6 ½ months. Now it’s only 5. Where does the time go? But the bigger question is, what am I going to do next? Any suggestions?

Wednesday Night Sunset Sessions

It's not often that I have friends pass through the Villa on a weekday...especially with a car, so we made the best out of it, and jammed down to Masachapa to do a little muelle jumping, enjoy the sunset, and maybe share a Tona or two.

 Scott, Matty, Graham, you're welcome back at any time!

Just launching off Somoza's now dilapidated private Dock!

Graham throwing a big tyme gainer

Not a bad way to end the day

Running an Ultra in a Third World Kountry

50 kilometers, or 31 miles, is about how long I used to be willingly to drive to get that oh-so-special-sandwich I was craving. And I would think nothing of it because, hey I was in a car and no matter how long it took, I could sit comfortably and listen to my comfort music. It is only now, after training for and running in my first ultra marathon, the Fuego y Agua Ultra and Survival Run, that I realized just how far 31 miles is, and makes me question my old habits to drive so far on a whim. Would I have been willing to drive that far knowing just how much effort it would take to go by foot? I doubt it.

The view at dawn's first light, of the volcano I would eventuality climb

 As I learned, running an ultra marathon is not something you just get up and do; the actual race starts months in advance with your training schedule, lifestyle habits, and nutrition. In other words it requires a strict fitness regiment and a huge daily intake of food…neither of which I could do, living as a peace corps volunteer in Nicaragua. In the months leading up to the race, I didn’t have what one calls a “fixed work schedule”, and my meager budget didn’t provide enough food for what my stomach was now demanding as payment for more frequent and longer runs. So, you do what you have to do when living in a third world country, and adapt. Not packing as many carbs and protein as you want in order to bulk up? Remember those who give you free food and make a point to always walk around their house and strike up conversation around mealtimes. Want to keep your ipod? Leave it at home. Don’t want to burn as many calories? Well, then wake up at 4am and run before the sun comes up. While this also helps you beat the constant 90 degree heat, it also causes a whole new set of problems: avoiding stray dogs. Teddy Roosevelt famously said, “Talk carefully, and always carry a big stick.” Well when it comes to not getting bitten by street dogs, I say, “Walk quietly, and always carry a big rock”. After all, a rock is a lot more comfortable in your hand that a stick. By following these tips, I wasn’t in peak condition, but as the Nicas say I was “mas or menos”. 

Santa Domingo, the last leg before Maderas

 The race itself was on the volcanic island of Ometepe, situated in the middle of the Lake Nicaragua, the largest lake of Central America and home to one of the only populations of fresh water sharks in the world. It is only accessible by ferry, and the approach is breathtakingly beautiful, with the islands two volcanoes, Concepción and Maderas, towering over you, with the former still being active. Despite being a big tourist destination, the island is remarkably undeveloped, and away from the islands two ports, the island is largely wild and untouched by external influence, covered with jungle, natural springs, waterfalls, and local coffee, banana, and tobacco farms, all of which turned into natural obstacles along the run.

The hike out of the crater, with my running partner Jake

Because the run also included a 70 km survival run, and a 100 km ultra run, the race began at 4am, underneath a beautifully clear, starry sky. It was so light, that during the few stretches of running along the road, it wasn’t necessary to run with your head lamp on, although most chose to keep theirs illuminated. From an outsider’s point of view, it must’ve been quite the sight to see, with hundreds of little islands of light, cruising along through the darkness towards an unknown goal. It wasn’t until the sun showed its head almost two hours into the run, that we realized just how beautiful the surrounding landscape was, being dominated by untouched volcanic beaches, banana farms, monkeys, and the ever looming presence of either volcano. The constant view of the volcano was a non-stop reminder of the challenge that lay ahead, the last obstacle. 

For the 50 km race, the ascent of Volcan Maderas started 32km from where we started. Or 40km if you made my mistake of turning the wrong way. It was during the couple of kilometers before the base of the volcano, as it grew bigger and bigger in front of me, that I began to question myself. Can I make it another 20km, with an ascent and descent of 1400 meters? Even in ideal conditions with a fresh pair of legs that can be a daunting task. But it was in asking that question that I realized what makes these types of races so appealing to a lot of people, including myself: You are constantly challenging yourself to see just how far your body can go, pushing your limits physically and mentally. There is no one else to rely on but yourself, and it’s up to you to keep putting one foot in front of the other. You could be cursing to yourself along the entire run, but the second you cross the finish line, the realization of what you accomplished kicks in, and you’re already thinking of what your next race will be.

The Aid Station and Lagoon in Maderas

The view from of volcano Concepcion and the rest of the Island of Ometepe from atop Maderas

 And by deciding to keep putting one foot in front of the other, I was rewarded with some awesome scenery. The gods were happy that day, giving us a cloudless sky, which offered beautiful views of the whole island. And who would’ve guessed there are some secret gems hidden in the crater of Maderas: a scenic crater lake and a natural “jungle gym” that blocked our path down. The trees in this section along the rim of the crater grew so close that their branches intertwined to form a natural climbing barrier. What made the jungle gym so entertaining for me, was the thick mud on the ground that would steal your shoe if you weren’t careful. In this scenario, I was brought right back to childhood, playing “Don’t touch the lava”, trying to keep my feet as far from the mud as possible by shimmying through the trees. Momentarily, I was no longer the weary twenty four year old struggling to finish a run, but an eight year old boy, swinging on the monkey bars.  

Peace corps 50km Runners: Jake, Aly, Maggie, Jake, Myself

Some very happy volunteers, who ran the 25 and 50km raes

9 hours and 37 minutes after starting, I crossed the finish line, with my good friend Jake. I was weary and dirty, but nothing could’ve stopped the excitement I felt. Do I think I’ll ever step up and do 100km? That remains to be seen. But you can bet that this certainly wasn’t the last ultra I’ll be running.