Monkey Hut

I forgot to chronicle the interesting conversation I had with my home stay father, Papa Nica, also known as Carlos or Carlito, as he tried to convince me at first. Papa Nica is gruff and a bit standoffish at first, but he’s secretly a softie at heart. I found him lying in the hammock, which he had promptly inhabited as soon as I vacated the hammock, making me think he was a bit crabby at first because I was taking his favorite reading spot. Anyways, I asked him what he was reading and he showed me the cover: a dictionary of terms according to a materialist. At first, I was a bit taken aback: who would read a dictionary to begin with, and a dictionary according to a materialist? Who ever heard of such a thing?

After asking me the obligatory questions about what I was studying in college, etc, we began talking about his views on materialism (he is a staunch materialist and a believer in the scientific method) and his beliefs about God. He actually stopped conversation to shake my hand when I told him that I was an atheist, but the conversation quickly turned more into a debate, with him hogging all the conversation time (grrr) about his views on the scientific method, truth, and atheism.  I was initially impressed, and still am, about his curiosity about metaphysics and materialism, but was a little disappointed near the end of our conversation about his derogatory view on religion (which was still refreshing, in a place where I literally just passed a group of religious worshippers singing, badly I should add, some kind of religious hymn), his narrow definition of truth, his obstinate insistence that only that which is scientific can be trusted, and his didactic (and incorrect) explanation of deism. Still, it was extremely fun to have this kind of conversation in Spanish. I’m feeling much better about my Spanish-speaking abilities and have improved more than I thought I would at the beginning of this trip, but my constant falterings when speaking remind me that I have a long ways to go. 

Today however, my Spanish served me well. We traveled to the large-ish town of La Concepción, a town outside of San Marco and the center of 6-8 comarcas (communities) where we’re hoping to branch out, find and train future asesoras, and hold future campaigns. We currently have no presence at all out there. To begin building up contacts in an area in which we literally have never stepped foot, we made a “community visit” where we got off and began asking questions about social groups, religious/political organizations, community leaders. For example, the first place we asked was a pulperia, those ubiquitous corner shops that sell shampoo, snacks, etc. Beginning with the excuse of buying something, we quickly eased ourselves into conversation about community leaders and our work. From there, we got recommendations to go to the alcadia (the town hall), which was host to a bunch of youth groups and cultural groups, and the Iglesia de Aguacate, an evangelical church that is extremely active in giving trainings on arts and crafts to children and adults. we also ran into a random woman named Norma, who referred us to Yocanda, who then referred us to the Catholic Church (even for a medium town like Concepción, there were four churches). Meanwhile, another pair of scouters had found the Catholic Church’s school and had made contacts there with the enthusiastic director there. Later, we split up again to find the evangelical church which people had spoken to exultingly about. Here we ran into a hitch; we were completely sidetracked and taken aback by the impressive church structure we passed on the way to the evangelical church, and which we took to be the evangelical church itself. Let me tell you that this church would be considered extremely well built and kept even in the United States, so to see such luxuries like paved and crack-less parking lots and perfectly straight corners was as if this building had emerged out of a vision. Later, after many questions, we found out that it was the Mormon church, and not the evanglical ones. Rich Mormons...go figure. 

All was not lost however; I made contact with the police office and the local chapter of an anti-violence against women and children center right next to the police station. We eventually found the evangelical church, but just like every place we went, the person in charge was not there. However, we left with some promising contacts. 

I absolutely love my home stay family here. They’re extremely friendly and generous, and constantly try to engage me in conversation. The trick is to act stupid at first, so they don’t feel intimidated because at first everyone was very shy to talk and would only speak when spoken to. Just act silly and foolish and ask questions about everything and soon, they begin to open up and share more. I got a free mango today at the wonderful lady at the pulpería, who knows us well now because we buy so much stuff from her/use her store as a meeting site everyday. In response, seeing that I loved mangos, Julia went and cut some mangos down from the tree next to our house. Tomorrow she’s going to make me nacatamale, a heavy rice dish with meat and potatoes baked in a banana leaf, a dish which they eat on special occasions. Yay!

Margarita also took me to visit her sister’s house, Carla, who has the cute baby. I was completely shocked at the luxuriousness of her house, which was nicer than the one that I live in in the US. Granted, she shares it with her husband’s mother and another half family (that’s another thing; it seems very common for the grandchildren to live with their grandparents, while their parents are nowhere to be seen...). However, they have an amazing view of the laguna, which one can enjoy from their pool. Carla meanwhile, has a ton of unnecessary and expensive toys like a baby stroller and kitchen appliances, etc, all beautifully decorated. I wonder what her husband does; that’s another thing. The husband is always away. It’s common for the daughter to stay at home and take care of the kids, often passing the day away at her parent’s house which is invariably close or right next door. Meanwhile, I’ve only seen Carla’s husband twice, usually late at night, and I haven’t seen pregnant Margarita’s husband at all, even though she’s husband and you’d think he’d stop and help her more often. 

The day before today we had a free day and went to Monkey Hut, a small resort on the edge of the Laguna. It had hammocks (which I took a wonderful nap in), a small pier from which to jump off of, a small dock floating out a few hundred yards in the clear, blue water, and kayaks if one so wished to be adventurous. The water was the perfect temperature and the sun blazing. I got a great tan and also floated out in the water a bit on my tube. The waves are surprisingly strong out there so I bobbed like a top while slowly being pushed back to shore. 

Afterwards, and after a  quick hushed lunch, we went back to the markets of Masaya, where I purchased, after much hesitation and hemming and hawing, two hammocks at 300 cord each, which was cheap in comparison to all the hammocks there. All of my worries were put to rest however, because my home stay family told me that I had made a good purchase and that the hammocks were of good quality. I also found the exact same hammock for 80 cords more at another stall, so I know I got a good deal. Yay me!

Now I’m looking forward to watching Pretty Woman at ten with my home stay family. Tomorrow it’ll be another early day with a hopefully successful campaign in Güisquiliapa, the home town of our four asesoras. Goodnight!