Creepy Crawlers

{Heads up: this story gets kind of gross pretty fast. Read on with caution.}
I just killed a spider about the size of my hand. I was sitting in my hammock chair watching Law and Order...just a normal lazy relaxing Sunday. I glanced over to the wall when I saw it. It had a massive bulb of a body and long hairy legs. If you know me well, then you know that large bugs that move quickly really freak me out. Having been here in Nicaragua for almost 2 years, I have learned to put my fears aside long enough to kill them and sweep them out of my house. And that is exactly what I did. I wanted to use something that would kill it automatically and not allow it a second chance to get away, so I grabbed a frying pan. Good thing my window was closed because someone would have thought there was a stranger or a bear in my house that I was trying to scare away. I crept up on the 8 legged creature, lined up my fingers on the handle remembering my softball days and took a swing. BANG! It was dead. Its body juices oozed out on my wall and its legs curled up into themselves and fell onto the floor. It was disgusting. Still shaking, I swept the gross thing out my back door to hopefully be eaten by a dog or washed away by the rain. Hopefully these bugs will think twice about entering my house. Don't mess me with bugs.

Sopa de Pollo con Albondigas

I love that word: Albondigas. It is so fun to say. It means “meatballs”. I love this word as well, but more because I love to eat meatballs. Today at the comedor, we had chicken soup with albondigas. These albondigas were different than ordinary meatballs that I had eaten before. Since my grandmother makes the best meatballs in the world, you have to make a pretty good ball to compete with hers. These were more of a dumpling than a meatball, but they were the consistency and shape of a ball of meat. They are made of maseca (cornmeal), pulled chicken, tomato, peppers and onions, all mixed up and formed into balls, which are then dropped into the soup. They actually taste pretty good. Aesthetics clearly is not an important aspect of the balls. They look like mud balls with bits of stick and bark sticking out everywhere. 

But the taste is what is important here. The soup itself comes with these strange looking but tasty albondigas, yucca, quequisque, carrots, chicken, squash, tomato, peppers, garlic, onion, sour orange juice, mint and cornmeal. It is delicious.  

Butterflies and Sexual + Reproductive Rights

Last Monday we dressed up at butterflies and paraded around Corinto dancing, singing and promoting Sexual and Reproductive Rights. It was actually not embarrassing at all, just fun. I loved being a butterfly. We decorated a trailer with balloons, streamers and tons of colorful posters celebrating our Sexual Rights. A DJ mounted the trailer with us and as the tractor pulled us around town, he played popular reggaeton and Latin music hits. We bumped and grinded and gyrated (just kidding…we danced) to the music while Xiomara gave mini charlas on the importance of knowing your rights. She spoke about each individual right and about teen pregnancy here in Nicaragua. Yesterday an article came out in one of the country’s newspapers saying that 27 out of every 100 pregnant women are teens. 27 % of all babies born are carried by teenage girls.

Anyway, we made our way through the streets with our butterfly masks, doing a vuelta in the park and ending in front of the office of Asociacion Huellas Juveniles (ASOHJUV-Youth Footprints Association). That was where Carolina explained what ASOHJUV is and then she passed the mic to me…uh oh. For some reason whenever I have a microphone in my hand, I automatically think I’m being really cool and smooth…like all the time. So I got up there and did a comical game show host act, calling up volunteers to participate in a dance contest and to answer questions about sexual and reproductive rights. We handed out diplomas of appreciation to the school that participated and the Casa de la Mujer (Women’s House) to thank them for their support. Then the tractor pulled us back to the hospital, dropping off our DJ and a few of the students along the way. This morning I was a bit worried because we did not have the students nor the music confirmed. It looked like it was going to rain and our posters were not sticking to the trailer. Then all of a sudden, it just got pulled together. It turned out to be a fantastically fun and successful event. And who gets to say that they dressed up as a butterfly and danced on a float for their work? Yup…Community Health Workers, Kids and Peace Corps Volunteers; that’s who.

New House!

This awkward gringa has moved yet again, finding a new neighborhood to terrorize with her awkwardness and her gringa-ness. The owners of my other house decided to make the space that I was renting out into an office, so I had to move. I ended up finding a more expensive, but nice place 3 blocks away from my old house. This new place has a lot of pros and cons to it, but overall I’m happy!

Pros:

-Bigger-I don’t have to share the kitchen, living room and changing area-they all have their own spaces

-I have a separate area to wash my clothing so I don’t have to do it in the shower anymore

-Nice sea foam green color (sea foam green sounds better than mold green right?)

-HUGE backyard with mango tree, chile pepper plant and space to run and play

-My backyard also comes with fun little iguanas that like to climb the metal poles and play hide and seek

-No drunk men yelling vulgarities at me when I enter my house

-Neighbors are extremely friendly-I’ve already been regalared cake, a picture of a saint, a pair of wooden prayer beads, some candy and I’ve been promised a fish (to cook, not as a pet)! My neighbors have totally welcomed me into the neighborhood and I now have my bean and cheese lady, my coconut bread man, my fruit lady and my friendly neighborhood fritanga (street food) friend.

Cons:

-My street is used as a cut through for all of the 18 wheeler trucks. They leave the warehouses and pass by my house starting at 5 in the morning and go until midnight. The noise that trucks make is such an obnoxious noise.

-I have cockroaches and mice…ugh.

-The first 5 days I was allergic to something in my house, but it seems to be gone now…we shall see.

-More expensive

Roadblocks Made of Sticks and a Moto

Tranque: in English tranque is basically a roadblock due to a protest. Usually you do not know there is a tranque until you are 100000 cars backed up in a traffic jam. Setting up these tranques is a way for the protesters to be heard. Here in Nica, tranques are put on usually by taxi drivers, sugar plantain workers, ex-military members etc…They are awful. (the tranques, not the people) Who knows how much money is lost during these tranques due to trucks not able to deliver their products or people not able to get to and from work. Unfortunately and out of the blue, I and a few friends got stuck in a tranque that was set up between Chinandega and Leon. This was our only way to get to Leon so we headed out in the car of a friend, not knowing what we were about to encounter. We started out great; classic NSYNC and Backstreet Boy songs playing, AC blasting in our freshly washed unsweaty faces…we were completely oblivious to what was to come. And then we hit it. Bumper to bumper to bumper traffic for 20 or so kilometers (on our side of the tranque, plus another 20 Ks on the other), they were mainly 18 wheelers attempting to deliver their goods. We alternated between sitting in the hotbox of a car and standing outside in the shade, jumping back in everytime a car inched forward, hoping that they had come to an agreement already. We played that sitting and standing game for 2 hours and then gave up. We decided to hop in a pedi cab to see how far we’d make it. As we were 3 people with 5 bags on a hot day, traveling uphill, we did not make it very far before our driver basically asked us to get out and walk. Finally after walking the majority of our triciclo ride, we paid our man, grabbed our bags and continued walking. And walk we did-3 kilometers (yes, that is only a little over a mile, but when you’re carrying 2 heavy bags under a hot sun on a day when you’ve already been in traffic for almost 3 hours and have switched modes of transportation 3 times, 3 K is a lot). So we continued walking until we hit the tranque. I had never seen, nor crossed a tranque before, but in my mind I pictured massive walls of people angrily shouting and waving burning sticks so as to actually block the road. Instead we came to a couple of people holding signs, some taking naps in the shade, while some small branches and a motorcycle were used to block the road. It almost seemed comical as I stepped over the branch to cross the tranque. This is why it took us 3 hours to get 8 kilometers? With a shady spot to rest up ahead, we continued on, hoping to find a bus on its way to Leon or Managua that would drop us off. With what seemed to be our first stroke of luck all day, the second we got to the shade, an empty bus pulled up. Acting in true Nica style, we used our bags and our butts to worm out way onto the bus and into seats. I don’t remember pushing any old ladies out of the way, but honestly it had been a really long day. Anything is possible. And we were on our way. We passed by hundereds of trucks, cars and bikes stopped on the other side of the tranque. We later found out that the private car that we had left Chinandega in was still parked in the line of traffic waiting to cross the tranque 10 hours later. And he was nowhere close to crossing it. My boss spent 16 hours on a bus waiting to get back home. 2 people died during the tranque: one due to an ambulance not being able to get out of traffic and to the hospital quick enough and one who lost control of his bike in the commotion of the traffic and rode off a bridge. The tranque definitely was effective in getting the attention of the company owners, the government and the entire country, but at what cost?

San Jeronimo

 As I was readying myself for bed at 8 pm (yes…I’m an old lady) tonight I heard a musical commotion outside my door. My house is usually pretty loud, but this was uncharacteristically loud and it was live music. I opened my door to find a hundred or so people crowded outside. The sides of the street were lined with people clapping, screaming and dancing to the music. They were celebrating the saint Jeronimo. A statue of the saint is carried around to houses whom have set up altars in honor of said saint. The altars are extremely ornate, made of red satin cloth, small overly be-jeweled statues and millions of Christmas lights or candles. The saint is followed by a band with an emphasis on its brass section and the saint itself is a small simple statue carried on a chair made of flowers, leaves and palms. This is all mounted on a square wooden structure complete with handles for its 4 carriers to hold on to. The 4 men and women carrying the saint bounce up and down to the music, spinning in circles for about 30 minutes until it is time to pray. The saint then enters the house and is placed on the alter where he will stay for a day or two. Now that the partying has calmed down a bit, the praying starts. Someone with a microphone starts the prayers. The group of prayers is smaller than the dancers, but it is still an impressive group. They pray for twenty minutes and then continue on with their normal nightly routines. Attached here are some pictures from the night…I apologize for the darkness, but you get the idea of how festive the celebration is! (I tried to upload a video too, but my internet is too slow.)