I haven’t been in site very long and the real work won’t start until school resumes in early February, but I’m already registering the difficult parts of service. The prediction is that the first six months of service are really hard. Here are some stressors:
1. I used to worry about wearing sunglasses. I’d think that nothing made me more gringa, but the truth is that everything about me screams gringa, from my clothes, to my skin, to the way I walk—silly to worry about sunglasses, as if by avoiding them I could fit in better. I so stick out. And that will never change, although people will get used to seeing me in the streets. People are nice. They smile and say “adiós” (Nica greeting, pronounced “adio”), but I am the “other” in spades.
2. I can’t rely on my well-honed ability to size up situations. I was really good at this in the States. I prided myself on being able to read people well and to intuit what was going on interpersonally. Here, in this other culture, I don’t know the rules and so can’t make predictions and judgments. It’s a strange feeling, because Nicaraguans are Western, they watch TV and wear clothes I recognize, so it’s easy to think they think like I do. Not true. In many small ways I miscalculate and that undermines confidence.
3. Time hangs heavy. Perhaps this will change when the school year starts or maybe I’ll figure out what to do with the time I now have. This is a big one—I really do hope that I can learn the “in-the-moment” thing, or, put another way, a way of being content not doing too much that’s “productive”. But aside from taking care of buying daily food to cook, there’s nothing much to do for entertainment, no one to go visit, no casual shopping, although I can get to a bigger town and plan to do that at least once a week if just for the scene change. I asked for a small town and I got it. I saw a little boy yesterday in the street kicking an empty plastic bottle around. Maybe I should give that a try. Joke. But this is an opportunity to do things I always said I wanted to do and never had time for, like walk for an hour a day, do yoga daily, get out my calligraphy stuff and read, read, read.
4. There are many moments about which we were warned, moments when the disconnect between life as we knew it and life as it is here becomes acute. This morning I had one. I was drinking coffee on the porch appreciating the view when I looked up the dirt road to see two little kids playing on the side of the road. One was about 7 and the other about 5. The seven year old was hacking at a tree with a machete. No adult in sight.
I can get euphoric about not much. Today, by asking questions, I found the home of a lady who sells tortillas. I was invited in while one señora went for the tortillas. Two other señoras were talking. I introduced myself, said who I was, what I was doing in their town and shook hands. I got such a positive response. The two year part impressed them. When I get bored I can go sit at the park and hope someone wants to chat. Today I got two high school girls. They were giggly, one more bold than the other who tagged along when her more confident friend. Both sat down to talk. But that was fun for me and I might have one of the girls as a student when class starts in February.
Wednesday is the day before the feast of the Immaculate Conception, a big holiday here. In the big cities it’s celebrated for a week with candy for kids and gatherings at people’s houses, but here it’s a one day holiday. My family has a gathering at the house. Should be interesting. Today the family broke out the Christmas decorations. (Yes, we are decorated for Christmas and Immaculate Conception). When I got back to the house the tree was already up. Now there is more glitter and light around than you can imagine, two crèches with a giant baby Jesus, and you know what, it’s just like home, down to the big cardboard box that holds the decorations wrapped in plastic bags from year to year. Fireworks are sold in the streets. It’s going to be a big holiday season.
I think I’m going to be fine here. I am prepared, though, for 6 hard months.
It Comes with the Territory
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