I’m back from a great and relaxing day. Last night’s chopstick teachings went well. I found myself floundering when it came to iterating the directions for how to use a chopstick in Spanish and had to resort to charades, effectively. Still, Maria José, who was the most excited to learn how to use chopsticks and had been the original pusher and mover behind my move to get chopsticks, learned extremely quickly, exclaiming “que bonito” over and over as I demonstrated how to use the chopsticks and especially after she learned how to use them rudimentarily. Edgard was adorable. His chubby little face alternated between complete concentration and despair. His little hands were a bit too small to hold  both the chopsticks and he insisted on maintaining the rigid clasp on the two sticks. Every now and again he would wail “no puedo!” to which I would repeat “Si, se puede,” over and over again. I took a few pictures of the camera shy Horacio and Edgard in action. I loved seeing the cultural exchange going on!

Horacio hiding under the able from the camera

Left to rightL Maria José and Edgard.

Apparently this morning Edgard ate breakfast completely with chopsticks, inspired by my insistence that he only needed practice to become proficient in the use of palíos. Although he was late for school, Edgard managed to consume everything with two sticks, which made me proud. That kid has got intelligence, discipline, perseverance, and most of all, charm. I know he’ll be successful at whatever he does, especially with the help of his respectable mother, Racquel, who strikes me as a very capable business woman with her priorities in the right place. For example, Nicaraguan school children who attend public school are only in class for half a day; the focus on education simply isn’t what it is here in the states. Many of our campaigns are held in rural school houses due to their central location, but these school houses are strictly one room things where children of all six grades are taught by one teacher, all at once. Horacio attends a public school, I believe, because he comes home every day at around noon when I’m back for lunch. Edgard, Racquel’s son, attends a private school which goes longer and also offers for an additional fee lessons in music, cooking, sports, etc. If one doesn’t have the resources to send one’s children to a better school however, the education system here doesn’t strike me as particularly good. Racquel believes in education and so has invested in a better school for Edgard. 

This morning we met to go over our projects and also met with Jamie, a wonderfully effusive petit woman who is a full time teacher at a non-profit school called Barrio La Planta, named after the poorest neighborhood in San Juan del Sur, where we’ll be staying next week (during my birthday no less!). Jamie explained to us, while children screamed in the floor below (every day at around 10 AM a swarm of around 20 children are set loose in the first floor of the Palacio for recess; they routinely sound like they’re being murdered, they are so loud, and their shrieks echo in the big, empty space). Barrio La Planta provides free education that emphasizes creativity and originality as well as ownership, over the rote memorization and strict curriculum provided in Nicaraguan public schools. Additionally, it’s half day I believe, so children go there after their normal school day is done. Finally, Barrio La Planta is aimed at providing an education that will enable a better life for its students. 

A severe case of gentrification is going on San Juan del Sur, which has became a major tourist and vacation spot in the last ten or fifteen years. However, foreigners, rather than natives, are the ones opening up the businesses like restaurants, bars and tour groups that are netting out all the profits and employing locals at relatively low wages. Simultaneously, the traditional jobs that existed and were passed on through family generations are being lost. While it is not necessarily a bad thing for a Nicaraguan to work as a restaurant worker, it is bad that Nicaraguans don’t have the ability to open up their own business or rise to the top of the ranks, if they so wished. What’s keeping them back is a combination of language skills (English: why has English become so dominant in the world?) and a lack of hutzpah, as Jamie put it. Nicaraguans simply aren’t accustomed to believing that one person can change the world, to have the confidence to embark on a new venture by themselves, to believe that they have the ability to do something novel. That’s why the school’s teaching method and its emphasis on English language are so great. 

I came away feeling very inspired that such a passionate person had decided to dedicate her life to living as a gringa in Nicaragua (Jamie is originally from Philadelphia and spoke with a very New York accent, strangely) and genuinely seemed happy. That’s something common between all development workers here, or people who work in development here on the side; they all emphasize happiness as being independent of material wealth, stressing personal relationships and helping people as their source of spiritual fulfillment. And they’re all completely generous, open, warm people to be around.

Two such people were Brian and Nancy, an older couple from Oregon who spend half the year in Nicaragua. After serving in the Mexican Peace Corp, they were looking to do more development work after they retired. That’s the other cool part; I have no idea what Brian and Nancy did in their past lives, but even after retiring, they’ve maintained a strong sense of purpose and passion, instead of spending their time in the complacent relaxation of retirement. Through some chance encounters, they ended up purchasing an absolutely BEAUTIFUL piece of property right next to the Laguna de Apoyo, a lake of sorts surrounded by huge hills. The property directly overlooks the lake and is perched on top of one of the hills. The lake is large enough that it fills the entire panorama of the view from the house, which contains an open courtyard facing the lake and an infinity pool in which one can relax while looking at the view. The laguna has a magical feeling, because it’s hard to judge distances when something is so vast, so it just floats in some mystical fourth dimension, connected but not really part of the world in which we inhabit. I’m looking forward to staying in Masaya with our homestay families (families that live the way many of the poor in Nicaragua live) and swimming in the laguna. 

The pool overlooking the laguna.

The estufa de apoyo!

The laguna de apoyo...pictures don't do it justice.

Laguna de Apoyo...

The back of their house

Brian and Nancy are dedicated to selling these estufas de apoyo (stoves made in Apoyo) that are made of local materials. The shell is spun by a local potter, the pumice that insulates the stove is from local volcanoes, the stoves are assembled locally, and the design came about as a collaborative effort between Brian, Nancy, and the townspeople. After two years of selling, Brian and Nancy have sold upwards of 500 stoves, which is excellent considering the difficulty of overcoming cultural barriers. For example: despite listing the economic benefits (the stoves pays for itself in a mere six weeks), health (it emits almost no smoke, compared to the fire pits - they are literally holes in the ground) and time (it cooks things in half the time) people are still extremely distrustful of the stoves. One is the culture; Nicaraguans are inherently distrustful. The other is that they are used to Gringos giving them the things they need, instead of having pay for things. How do you convince people to pay for stoves when they can construct their own (albeit harmful, inefficient and dangerous) stoves for free? They’re used to using this stove for generations and generations and this new stove is not only smaller, but also strange looking; will it support my pans? People simply don’t believe what we tell them. Lots of behavioral economics comes into play when you’re trying to get people to buy things, especially from a foreign non profit. 

The model that Brian and Nancy have used primarily to disseminate the stoves resembles very closely the MCM. They identify, through luck and chance, individuals who need the stove and perhaps are community leaders. They either give them a model or sell them one to use as a prototype. Then, if the people like the stove, as they always do, they are given the opportunity to sell the stoves out of their house to their friends and neighbors, collecting a small commission on the sale of each stove. Only through personal relations does the stove get sold. Brian and Nancy also have great contacts and relationships they’ve been slowly building within the community, supporting two schools and the local baseball team, and have capitalized on those by raising awareness of the stove through them. 

We were all struck by how awesome Brian and Nancy were. They not only had a house straight from paradise (all of us were kind of in shock when we stepped out of the van), but they also had such a great job and cause they were dedicated to and spent their energy fulfilling, and had also surrounded themselves with intelligent, caring local employees as well. They were the definition of a perfect balance of help and service, charity and development, etc. 

After getting back from that inspiration trip, a few of us decided to climb the tower of La Merced, the burned old church that I pass everyday on my way home. It was, as I originally said, burned by William Walker on his vengeful exit from Granada. For twenty cordoba, we climbed the narrow spiral stairs up to the top, where this strange man kept obsessively ringing the bells despite the fact that it was 4:38 PM. He just looked at me when I asked him if he really was going to ring the bells...rude. The view from up there is amazing and there’s even a cooling breeze. I could see my street from up there, as well as the two churches, including the famous yellow one in the Parque Central from up there. I left a little mark so that future visitors will be able to see that I was there. Brian told me I’d go to hell, but since I don’t believe in Hell, I think I’ll be fine. 

Beautiful views from the top