TRECE DE JUNIO

 

WEDNESDAY, JUNE 13, 2007

Trece de Junio

Standing in the regadera fria con cervesas frias, nosotros practicamos nuestro espanol y discutimos sobre quien es bossier. Due to a water shortage todo el dia, Adan no pudo flush el inodoro earlier y no pudo lavar his crapped-in panties. Entonces, nuestro habitacion huele muy terrible. Mi amiga, Jen, y yo fuimos nadar en la picina a una hospedaje.

Later in the evening, we met Francisco, a Nicaragua native who is our age, in the square while I was hoping to take sunset photos. He spoke with adan while I zipped around and captured a few moments and faces.

DOCE DE JUNIO

 

TUESDAY, JUNE 12, 2007

Doce de Junio

Today, I hiked Volcano Mombacho. I took in all the Amazing views and snapped many photos of the landscape and our town from above.

I went with Jen, a volunteer, who is ready to leave Nicaragua and never come back. She’ll leave behind her kittens and her English accent.
“oh its absolutely boilin”
“it cost a biddy fortune.”
“a great big pot and a titchy one.”

She can’t stand Nicaragua and complains about it constantly. Maybe I’m just on a New Experience high, and by the end of my summer here, I too will be ready to leave Nicaragua and never come back. But I really believe the experience is ours to create.

We can either dwell grumpily on all the power outages, the lack of decent healthy food, the outrageous heat, the lack of organization… or we can focus on the unique way of life, the new culture, the laid back atmosphere, the glorious and most welcome rain showers, the colorful buildings and the friendly people. We could either isolate ourselves in our apartment, avoid the busy streets, and ignore the neighbors ....or we could search for adventure, CHOOSE the busy streets, and meet our neighbors, and actively seek ways to serve the country. Its going to be what we make of it.

Running to my Spanish class in 100 degree heat, boilin’ sun, mid-day… I could have turned a ditch into a lagoon with the sweat dripping from me today. Laguna del Sydney. Now I understand why no one is in a hurry.

Well, except for these three little ninas.

DIEZ DE JUNIO

 

SUNDAY, JUNE 10, 2007

Diez de Junio

His name was Yader.

“Mmm comida….” Pacing around the outdoor tables, pesky as a fly, he asks again and again for leftover scraps from abandoned plates. “Sientase.” We have him sit with us and we offer him my plate. Shoveling with both hands, he takes brief brakes to answer our questions. Though he clearly wanted to continue his quest for food, he took the time to explain that his parents cannot work due illness (asthma & feet issues) so he has to fend for himself and his sisters. He’s fourteen. 

He has to fend for himself too.

We went to the Mercado today. Lost in the maze of booths selling everything from bras to matches, mangos to soaps, we found ourselves in the raw meat section where flesh cut who-knows-when sits under a sweaty sun blood-soaking wooden tables. The meat is swatted by a rolled up newspaper in a vain attempt to keep the flies from first dibs. I hold my breath until I find my way out.

OCHO DE JUNIO

 

FRIDAY, JUNE 8, 2007

Ocho de Junio

Today we got filthy. Paint dust and dirty water filthy.
Café Chavalos is a restaurant that is opening to help the barrio boys with jobs as cooks. It is a program that gets very troubled teenage boys (drug addicts, murders, theives, etc.) off the streets by offering them chef training and jobs at the Cafe. Adam and I spent all day painting, sweeping and sanding, laboring for the good of the kids. It was great to be working so hard, doing the difficult annoying tasks, knowing that it is all part of a big picture to help Nicaragua.

We just watched a late night street soccer ball game. They had been playing since sunset, and are still playing. The street is not blocked off and cars still pass thru the middle of their games.
 

More children playing in the streets.

 

SIETE DE JUNIO

 

THURSDAY, JUNE 7, 2007

Siete de Junio

We visit a few schools in the barrios. 

And brave the rain with the locals.
 

And of course my camera cannot resist the beautiful Nica children.

 

SEIS DE JUNIO

 

WEDNESDAY, JUNE 6, 2007

Seis de Junio

Its 3am in Granada. The most thunderous rain pours roads into rivers and I am awake. I’ve been jumping out of bed every few minutes for the past several hours, battling with the mosque net, nervous to miss a thing. Inspiration above restoration. It’s hot, yes, but I am awake because the bright balcony keeps pulling me to it with sounds and lights waving right in. I take photos thru the night. 

Almost involuntarily.

I take photos into the Morning.

Still unsure of the actual time, we get out of bed.

I slip on a dress so I can spy from the balcony all the morning goings on in Nicaragua. Traveling fruit vendors yell down the street what their wheel barrows are offering today, donkeys click-clop down the road dragging wagons of nothing, bicycles hold full families front, back, and middle.

CINCO DE JUNIO

 

Cinco de Junio

Its midnight in Granada. The light is a golden wet glisten upon the streets of this bright town, and I am here to testify that rain waters from night clouds in Nicaragua turn greens into verdes and yellows into amarillos, blues into azules, and reds into rojos. I’m here to testify that midnight rain water in the darkbright streets of Granada, Nicaragua turns life into vida.

I am. I am right now in this moment and don’t know about the next moment and don’t care about the last. I am.

I sit cross legged on a stone floor that looks cold, but feels hot. I sit nude.

Turquoise adobe surrounds me in the dark, while the smallest light from the bathroom glows through the wooded beads of the curtain, spraying a fan-shaped shadow through the room.

After several glorious moments, nude with shadows, I get up and take a crap. A crap that wakes up Adan who, from beneath the makeshift mosquito net asks, “…. You okay baby?” To which I reply, “Oh. Never. Been. Better. (insert sound effects) I feel amazing and I hope you get a crap like I just did.”

The mosquito net falls on him and he groans. We fix our duct tape rig and I return to my moment. Here on the sticky stone floor, heavy in the eyes but leaping inside. I’ve already shot my first 50 photos from our barred-in balcony and foresaw hundreds of future photos on the 45 minute drive from the airport in our Spanish-Lesson Mobile driven by Marlon.

I’m about to take my third shower in one hour, battle the heat with my drips, and crawl under the mosquito net with my incredible Adan, my brilliant adventurer, fearless friend, and confident soul mate… who turns life into vida.