Volcan Mombacho

Not many people can say that they climbed a volcano last weekend.  Well, I guess quite a few people could say that, really, but we're still very proud of ourselves.  Mombacho looms over the city of Granada, and would be a pretty scary sight if it wasn't dormant.  Scientists think it had one great cataclysmic eruption about 20,000 years ago, blowing its cone and spraying huge chunks of earth and lava into Lake Nicaragua (the origins of the lake's beautiful isletas).  It last erupted in the 1500's, devastating a small village before calling it quits for good.

It's about a 8 kilometer hike up the mountain from where the bus drops you off, or you can opt for one of the military-issue 20 passenger trucks with enormous tires and very low gears (the grade up the volcano is VERY steep).  Jenna and I decided to hike, since we consider ourselves to be young and healthy.  It turns out "foolish" is also a good adjective for us.  We made it about 4 kilometers up the mountain, to an organic coffee farm, where we flopped down exhaustedly into rocking chairs and drank some nice fresh coffee. 

Then we caught a truck to the top, where thick clouds shrouded the lush green precipice of the mountain. While we didn't see any wildlife or any spectacular views due to the cloud cover, we did experience the mystical disorientation of stepping into another world.  The top of the volcano was deep green, dark, chilly, and foggy.  For the first time in months it would have been nice to have a sweater!  

School day!!! this is a glimpse at the school i work at through La Esperanza Granada- a nonprofit that works with low income schools near Granada. i walk about 30 minutes to the outskirts of the city to get to the school. usually i work with kids one-on-one who are having trouble in a subject. all of my kids are in 2nd grade and with most of them we're working on the alphabet. this actually has proven difficult for me, since in Spanish "E" sounds like "aye" and "I" sounds like "eee." sometimes i find my self saying very loudly "AYE" because i want them to write "A" when they have already clearly written "E", which is "AYE." 

on wednesdays i help the other volunteers with PE and art. PE usually involves soccer on the cement for the boys and jump rope for the girls. art today was mosaics of little paper pieces glued to paper. the kids kept saying what i thought was "bella! bella!" to me - which is sweet, because it means beautiful- but i quickly learned they were actually saying "pega! pega" which means glue. they wanted more glue. 

the kids come to school at 8 and leave at 12 and get one meal provided by the government of beans and rice. if there's a parade, if it rains, or if the teacher doesn't want to come, school is cancelled. needless to say, this educational laxity really disturbs the German volunteers. :)

Day Trip

Yesterday was a day defined by drastic temperature changes. We took a little day trip to Managua to check out Nicaragua's proud capital, and, in true gringo form, we spent most of our time not at history museums or revolutionary landmarks, but rather at the American-style mall that everyone raves about. We're talking McDonald's, a Cinemark movie theater, and (gasp!) air conditioning. Air Conditioning, where it exists, is serious business down here: you walk out of the humid tropical heat and into an arctic environment that could be used as a meat-locker if necessary. So while it was a relief to get cooled off, it was an equal relief to leave the mall and re-enter the humidity where our frostbitten fingers could thaw. Maybe they plan it that way just to double your pleasure.

Out of the frying pan and into the furnace of our bus ride home, where the outside heat is compounded by the heat of far too many bodies. This time Jenna and I both passed the claustrophobia test with flying colors, even on the return trip, where there were about 26 of us crammed into a 15 passenger van, sweating on each other and bent over in unusual positions to which our bodies are unaccustomed. And then, an hour later, the sweetest feeling of the day: stepping out of the bus and into the cool evening breezes of Granada . . . 

 

mi casa!

 

as i sit here waiting for the water to be turned back on so i can take a shower (the government has really ingenious ways of saving money here) i think i'll tell you about houses. 

Granada was built in the colonial style of huge houses with built-in gardens, so the whole house is open air. if you look at the big pic of roofs at the top of this page you can see the houses have holes in the middle where trees and plants grow! 

a building like the one pictured above with blue columns has been divided up into 3 (or maybe more) smaller houses. it's kind of fun - like i'm living in Zorro times. the middle picture is the place we're staying. the plants are part of a garden that the house in built around. you can see into the kitchen and dining room from this angle. 

the other picture is of Ernesto and his babysitter! Ernesto is the child of the couple we're living with. he daily helps us with our spanish by reminding us that the word for bird is "pajaro" - so far the only legible word he knows . . .

ok, dave says the water is back on. hopefully the government has saved a few cordobas in the meantime.

The Trashmen of Granada

Well, if you're having a tough day at the office, just think of these guys, who have the worst job in the entire world: Granada trashman. Each morning they rumble through the streets with their circa-1970 dump-truck to collect the basura from all the public trash receptacles in the city. There ain't no automated hydraulic lifters on those trucks; they do it by hand. Others of the crew stand in the bed of the truck, stomping down the rotten fruit, the mildewy fast-food containers, and the refuse of dogs and humans, all the while bathing in a truly awful stench. Yowzah . . . 

Church and State

This is the view from atop the Iglesia Xalteva, the majestic old church where we attended our first mass over the weekend. Spanish was the language of choice, so we didn't necessarily understand a whole lot of the service, but the people were friendly, we felt welcomed, and best of all, there was some beautiful praise music from a Mariachi-style band. 

I also had an interesting conversation this week with a native Nicaraguan and a Brit about religion at the English school where I help out. Our three countries offer some stark contrasts when it comes to faith and religion: Nicaragua, where most people are Catholic by birth and tradition but not in practice; Britain, where churches struggle to fill even one service each month; and America, where religion so saturates everything that a staunch creationist can gain the vice-presidential nomination. I have a feeling it was the first of many such conversations, so I'll keep you posted . . .

Back to mass: towards the end of the service, the voice of the priest was drowned out by the sound of hundreds of political paraders outside in the streets. There are city elections here in a few weeks, and if Nicaragua is lukewarm about its religion, it really pours its excess fervor into politics. 

As we've grown more comfortable with our native friends and Spanish teachers here, we've asked more questions about politics and the revolution of the late-1970's. It's a terribly complex and messy history, but we've learned that not everything we had heard in the states really represented the reality of the way things were here. While the US-backed contras were certainly not sweethearts, most people here recollect the brutality of the Sandinistas as well: sons taken from home in the middle of the night and taken north into the jungle to fight and die. It sounds like there were no winners, only losers, and the people continue to struggle in the face of corruption, joblessness, and lack of opportunities to escape a subsistence lifestyle.

Here's a picture of the political rally near the front steps of the church:

planes, trains and automobiles

this week dave and i will have been here one month! we figure it's time to report on transportation:

- people here ride bicycles. and not only that, multiple people ride one bicycle. it's awesome. most people don't have cars here, so if the family is going out for dinner, the family takes the bicycle. we've seen men steering with a woman in front and a 5 year old in front of her, holding an umbrella. it's awesome. there's t-shirts for the tourists with that image and underneath the words "rolling Nica style."

-also, if people aren't taking their bikes or walking, they take their pimped out horse and cart (honestly, see photo of the "BAT PARTY" cart!). dave and i aren't positive about this, but we suspect that when less serious crimes are taking place Batman saves on gas with this sweet ride.

-and if the kids have the bike and cart out, people are left to the buses (above, right). as you can see, these are old american school buses that have retired here to carry way more than their alotted weight limit in people and cargo (including chickens). dave and i tried to take one most recently for a fun beach weekend. we arrived at the bus stop a little late and the bus was packed. and by packed i mean that since i was the last one on i stood on the bottom step in the doorway. as time went on people squished together more to let 10-15 more people on. after about 20 minutes something snapped in me and i started shaking and crying. luckily we were at a stop and i climbed over people as i said "NECESITO SALIR. NECESITO SALIR." once we got off the bus i broke down in tears and the driver's assistant came over to see if i was ok. by this time everyone on the bus was looking out the windows at this gringo girl having a breakdown. ahhh! so that was no good. but i have fully recovered and now know that i did indeed inherit my mother's claustrophobia. and dave and i didn't really want to go to the beach anyway...


on a lighter note, one of Dave's english students wanted him to break down the etymology of the word "fuggly" the other day. he had heard it in a rap video.