One of the hardest things about Peace Corps is that I am here, and my family and friends are in the US. Time doesn’t pass as it does in the US. There are no flowers blooming, snow falling, or leaves changing colors. Seasons are much more subtle (is is raining or not). So I find myself puzzled when I hear that there are only 10 more days of school or that my dad is opening up the pool. It seems like they should be doing the same thing as when I left. I’m still doing the same thing, so why not them?
The hardest news is the life changing kind: engagements, pregnancies, graduations, illnesses (so far no deaths). These are the phone calls where I have to fight the urge to hang up and call the airlines to book the first flight home. It brings me back to what some family friends said after living abroad for 10 years: They didn’t come home because they couldn’t hack it abroad, but because of all the milestones they were missing in their loved ones’ lives. I can see where they are coming from. I always imagined if my sister got deployed again I might come home. One daughter abroad is enough for my parents to worry about.
After 8 solid months in country, the first person in our group is taking some time off to see if Early Termination is the right option. This hit my inner circle of PC friends hard as we tried to advise the person the best way possible. But will this open the flood gates? Is this the beginning of our group breaking up? We try to be there for each other, but let’s be realistic, I see my fellow PCVs (from my group) one weekend every 2 or 3 months. We text each other on a daily basis, but there is a lot you can’t share with texts… like hugs!
Did you know that for good mental health, you need 8 hugs a day? How many does the average PCV get? Remember, I’m not average because I have a boyfriend. But still, there are times when I could really use a day long hug. “I know you need to go to the bathroom, honey, but you can’t let me go.” Anyone who knows me knows that I am a huggy person. I swear I wasn’t born with the US mentality of personal space. It’s not uncommon that I’m holding hands with my sister, linking arms with my girlfriends, tackling my mom for a full body hug, and generally giving everyone I know lots of hugs. I have become even touchier down here. Part of it is not my fault; Nicaraguans are touchy people, too. You see people in the street talking with acquaintances while holding their hand or arm. People kiss and hug each other as greetings and goodbyes. On a bus, a random child might sit on your lap if there is no place to stand. God only knows how I’ll be when I come back to the US.
Speaking of God, he is laughing right now. I, being the touchiest white person in probably the entire country of Nicaragua, have fallen head over heels for probably the LEAST touchy Latino on the entire continent. Don’t laugh… it’s not funny. Actually, I have to be bit more truthful; he is a bit touchy. As we walk down the street, he almost always holds my hand (unless he’s really hungry and in a hurry to get to the restaurant). He kisses and hugs me goodbye. Okay… before we get into too many examples, maybe he is touchier than I give him credit for.
Another thing is that the man eats like an elephant! A pound of rice is NOT okay to eat in one meal. He has been eating at my house a few times a week for the past month or so. Recently he went to the doctor, who told him he has lost 7 pounds during this time. HOW IS IT POSSIBLE? He says it’s my cooking, but no. He always eats seconds, is full and says it’s delicious. My thought is that he has a parasite. Maybe he missed that day at the clinic when they passed out anti-parasite pills to EVERYONE. They also did that at the school. You might be asking yourself how they could do that… are some people not allergic? Not important here. I’m pretty sure there are no laws in Nicaragua, unless you steal someone’s cow.
Well, the favorite cow has not revisited my neck of the woods to scare me at 2am. However, the dog next door has been barking SO MUCH! I don’t know how the thing is still living. It literally did not breathe for an entire 8 hour period one night. I had ear plugs in, a pillow over my head, and still could hear him. Finally, I made a little noise myself and blessed the damn thing up and down. Too bad that didn’t make a difference. Hopefully in my new house there won’t be too many neighborhood dogs.
Supposedly I will be moving this Sunday to a new house. We shall see. It’s pretty pointless to make a plan that involves other people. The whole thing just takes too much energy and then it’s really disappointing when it inevitably falls through. However, if I do move, I will be living in a FOUR bedroom house with a kitchen, bathroom, and backyard with papaya, lime, and nancite trees. This is a big change from my current 2 room house (the bedroom/living room, and the kitchen/ storage room) with the bathroom outside. In Ocotal it is hard to find the perfect sized house. You either get a very small, run down house, or a very large and expensive house. I have tried the first, so I figure it’s time to try to latter of the two.
In my new house, I will be neighbors with my site mates. One leaves in July, but the other should be sticking around for another year or so. It would be kind of neat to be so close to them. Currently we are about a 30 minute walk from each other, but that doesn’t stop us from seeing each other at least once a week. Usually we grab a bite to eat, or help each other with a project. This week I helped move dirt at the Casa Materna, and we got together for a welcoming party for the new Health group. There are 5 newbies in Nueva Segovia. Fun times in Ocotal!
This week I also went to the Mr. Nicaraguan contest. Half naked guys + ladies night = a wonderful time! They first came out in their all white wardrobe, then in their swimming shorts (although I’ll bet not ONE of them can swim), jeans with no t-shirt, and finally formal wear. In between rounds, there was folkloric dance and folk singing. All in all, I felt culturally educated afterward. I would have taken pictures, but we were having a little too much fun keeping score on who we thought should win. I must say, the North has some pretty good “talent”. :)
Since I came back from the US, a couple of interesting things have happened. One, I had an infected cyst and two, my house flooded. The best part is that they happened in the same weekend! I had started to notice that my cyst was really sensitive and then it got big, red, and hot to the touch. Obviously it was infected. I started to take antibiotics, but after 5 days, not much was changing. I decided to go to Managua to see the doctor. They first gave me a local anesthetic and then cut it open to drain it. I’ll spare you the details, but just say it was a big show. Tired and bandaged, I came back to Ocotal the next day… TO FIND MY HOUSE FLOODED! Apparently, it had rained a bit. Before I left for Managua I figured that this might be the case, so I moved everything to a higher spot… except the suitcase that I brought back from the States. I have no clue why I thought it was waterproof, but neglected to move it. All the clothes I had brought back were floating in water. My emergency passport was buried in the bottom. Ha! That makes two passports. I wonder what the max in one year is that they will issue to a person. Anyway, I washed all the clothes and most of them were okay. The passport will work itself out… hopefully.
So why did I agree to do Peace Corps? Quality hair growing time.
If I’m being serious, there were many culminating factors that finally made up my mind. When I first applied, I was sitting at my sister’s going away party. She was being deployed for a year in Iraq to transport supplies and soldiers in Baghdad. I viewed this as her contribution to the United States. We have family members in every branch of the military (the Army, Marines, Navy, and Air Force) who have given years of their lives to serve their country. Looking at this sacrifice, I felt compelled to serve. However, I wanted to participate in a service of Peace that would help those most in need. I was naturally drawn to Peace Corps.
Other reasons are more selfish. I love to travel and experience new countries and cultures. To spend two years in a culture, practicing my second language, and truly getting to know the people, customs and traditions, was a dream opportunity. What better way to improve my Spanish, gain some experience teaching, and get to travel!
My house got flooded in April. Everything was fine, after a bit of clean up...
My clothes on the line drying.
My visit to the US in March was wonderful! I really enjoyed getting to see my family and friends, eating all the foods I was craving, and ... playing pool with my dad! 
With my Papaw and Betty
The whole family together... my sister came and surprised me at the airport... such a sweetie!!!
My sis and me at her new campus... she recently got a new job teaching.
In this picture I am trying on my sister's roller derby gear. Don't I look fierce?
Gas prices by the liter in March 2010.
Douglas playing with his dog, Cypres.
I finally made my back porch into a real classroom. One of my students brought over the board. Each of the students brought a chair and I had the table made out of a door and scrap wood in the back yard.