What the Hell am I doing here?

Everyday this question pops into my head.  On really hard days this is all I think about. But not for one second have I seriously considered marching into the Peace Corps office and telling my boss I quit.  Why haven’t I?  Because I knew this was going to be harder than any job I’ve ever had and I also was told it would be the most rewarding… and so far it has been both.  Now when I say hard what I mean is getting accustomed to certain things like: having no water for a couple of hours during the day (usually right after I come home from running),   riding on a non-air conditioned bus filled with more than double the occupancy and people hanging off the back, getting cat called at every time I walk out my door, hand washing my laundry in a pila (which can be therapeutic until the bus start eating my ankles), the mosquitos everywhere ( I think they actually like off spray),  random fiestas that last for a month (seriously people have been carrying San Pedro around the streets of my town for a month accompanied by a band that explodes bombas or fireworks at the most random times of the day), bartering for less than 40 cents when a moto taxi driver tells me I have to pay 30 cords when I know I should only pay 20 cords (I have become the cheapest person here), all of the noise (roosters, chickens, dogs, cows all hours of the day) and emaciated street dogs that poop and pee everywhere.   So yes some of these things make my life here stressful but it’s a very different kind of stress from I had in the states. 

When I was preparing to graduate college all I could think was that I needed a job. I didn’t really know what kind of job so I took one that paid well but made me stress to the point where I literally sat in front of 2 male bosses and cried my eyes out.  Overworked was an understatement.  After that I took another job to get out of the job I hated only to find out a year later that this job was way worse…I ended up working at that job for 4 years…the last year I cried almost every day  on my way to work (thanks mom for listening to me cry).  What was wrong with those jobs?  Well I could blame the incompetent management but really it was me.  I wasn’t suited for those jobs and every day I worked at those jobs I asked myself, “What the hell am I doing here?”  (Please note my last job before PC I really loved and it was hard to walk away from it because I worked with great people.)  In those jobs I wasn’t living up to my potential which made me so unhappy.  For me both of those jobs were mindless and I felt like every day was ground hogs day.  I was having the same conversations with the same people on repeat.  I knew I couldn’t do that for the rest of my life.

So what’s the difference between those jobs and my job now…Everyday even on the hard ones I can answer my question, What the hell am I doing here?  I was wasting time before Peace Corps; but if I hadn’t had terrible experiences I would not be able to appreciate the good ones.  Peace Corps is a good experience.  I learn something every day and once in a while I get to teach something to.   So what the hell am I doing here? 

• ·         I am working with teachers and co- teaching entrepreneurship classes in high schools
• ·         I am learning about my community and how I can make a difference here
• ·         I am fundraising and writing grants for Empowerment International which is an amazing organization and really makes a difference in the lives of kids.
• ·         I am teaching students and colleagues that they do have opportunities if they can just think outside of the box (something discouraged in Nicaragua).
• ·         I am learning a different language (finally using my brain for something)
• ·         I am learning how to live simply, what most of the world does anyway, so why should it be different for me.
• ·         I am learning to understand and appreciate a different culture
• ·         I am learning to have patience (I struggle with this daily)
• ·         I am learning to appreciate life and just relax (very Nicaraguan)
• ·         I am learning to not take things for granted (water, comfortable bed, hot showers, pretzels, sweet tarts and apples…these last things I’m missing more than hot showers J)
• ·         I am learning how to make a long distance relationship work (I think I have it easier than most as I talk to Aaron every day and less face it he’s pretty much the best guy ever)
• ·         I am learning to be self-confident and appreciate myself more

What the hell am I doing here?   I am challenging myself to live a full life by helping others, helping myself, doing something different and appreciating the time I have here.  No regrets.

The Creeper Incident and Nicaraguan Idol

I was waiting at the bus stop for a friend when a drunk man started stumbling toward me with the usual comments most Nicarguan men say to me or any other “gringa” (totally weird that I’m considered a gringa here).  As he approached more closely I moved and continued to ignore him.  My friend arrived shortly after and we stood waiting for our bus.  As he continued his drunken comments I was honestly surprised that the other Nica men who were at the stop didn’t intervene and tell him to go sleep it off on some street corner.  No comments were made from any of the 4 men that were there, they looked more entertained than anything else which really just pissed me off.  I put up with the drunken comments for what seemed like forever but was about 20 minutes before our bus arrived and we took off. 

Two days after on Tuesday I was walking back from the cyber after talking with Aaron when the procession of the saint and all the people came down the street. The same drunk man was the first to approach me and made some comment about seeing me run every day.  I blew past him and went home.  About 30 minutes later as I was reading in bed the same drunk man starts screaming on my street.  I love you he said in English, “Te quiero” .  I pretty much wanted to throw up.  He continued his antics right outside of my window which faces the streetI was not only scared but mortified, he was doing this in front of my neighbors.  The crazy drunk even asked Diego to open the door for him so he could talk to me. It was at this time I came out of my room and asked my host mom what was going on and she assured me, “Don’t worry, we won’t open the door.”  I didn’t feel that reassured so I slept with a pair of scissors under my pillow and barricaded my bedroom door with a rocking chair. The next day I called the Peace Corps Security guy who is pretty much the coolest guy ever.  He took all of my information and told me he would come to my house that day.  When he showed up he pretended it was just a routine security visit.  He met with my neighbors, my host family and the police.  He asked my neighbors and my host family about the incident the previous night and if they knew the drunks name.  They did.  Apparently this guy is the “big” drunk of the town, which is pretty hard to become considering all of the heavy drinking that goes on here especially during fiesta patronales (to be honest seeing people drink in excess has put me off alcohol entirely, for the time being).  Oh and to make matters worse this guy has mental problems…just my luck. After he me with my family and neighbors he visited the police station and reported the incident on my behalf. 

Since then I haven’t been bothered by the creeper drunk guy and I don’t sleep with scissors under my pillow.

…And now for the truly good part of the blog…Nicaraguan Idol.  So this was one of the first things I had been told after becoming a volunteer that I would be asked to judge an English singing competition.  I couldn’t wait.  My chance finally came this past Tuesday.  I was asked to show up a bit early for the competition so we could start at exactly noon.  Of course in  true Nica form the competition started 2 hours later J…The competition was held in one of the rural schools I co-teach at and I was the only judge that really spoke English.  One judge was a teachers brother who spoke hardly any English and the other was an English professor from the district who could speak more.  So as my professor said I would be the judge that would score the hardest, but I couldn’t.  These kids were getting up in front of their entire school singing songs in a different language, I had to cut them some slack.  I definitely wouldn’t be able to do that.  Honestly, the only time I’ve ever sang songs in Spanish was when I was a little girl and would sing Luis Miguel songs to my mom and grandma for their entertainment. 

There were 7 groups of students and some of their song choices were pretty awesome.  I was serenaded by Rhianna, Backstreet Boys, Lady Gaga and the Offspring.  The offspring song was my favorite, not because these girls were good but because the only word they pronounced correctly in the entire song was the F word.  The song they sang was you’re gonna go far kid, which chorus says “so dance fucker dance”.  When they first said it I thought no they’re not saying that in school but yup they were.  I’m pretty sure I was the only one who picked up on it and had to stop myself from laughing.  By the end of the contest there was unfortunately a 3 way tie between Rhianna, Lady Gaga and Backstreet boys, which meant the groups would have to sing again.  Not only were my ears aching from the singing but from the worst sound system ever that I was seated in front of. By the end of this round we had a clear winner…Lady Gaga. The groups were judged on tone, pronunciation, knowing the lyrics and stage presence.  Lady Gaga won because of the pronunciation and knowing the lyrics but as far as entertainment goes Rhianna group had my vote.  These girls sang Diamond and had a dance routine and had glitter everywhere.  It was a pretty entertaining experience and one I hope to do again soon.

Fiesta Patronales and a Close Call

Two weekends ago was the start of Fiesta Patronales in Diria.  It started off with Hipica which is basically a horse festival where people come and bring their horses and have them “dance” which is really just some trotting.  Fiesta Patronales honors the saint of my town who is San Pedro and for 2 plus weeks they have been carrying around his statue throughout the town during the strangest of times.  They parade around the pueblo with him in all hours of the night and morning and not only have a very obnoxiously loud band with them but they have bombas which are the equivalent of fireworks except 10 times louder.  To say I haven’t had much sleep in the last 2 weeks is an understatement.  But I guess like everything else here its an experience. 

Two Sundays ago after my host family’s family came over for a celebratory lunch my host mom was cleaning up.  I was in my room when I heard her scream “Diego, who is my host uncle and her brother”.  At first I didn’t think anything of it but she continued then I hear her scream I’m going to die.  That’s when I decided I should probably head to the kitchen to see what was going on.  When I got to the kitchen she was grasping at her throat and said she drank poison.  I thought to myself why would you do that?  Diego brought me a water bottle that had pink liquid in it and told me that’s what she drank.  Apparently the domestica had made a cleaning mixture and had put it in a water bottle and Melida thought it was her water and drank it.  As Melida sat in her rocking chair praying I asked Diego what to do…he said we will wait… Kind of strange to me but okay.  I asked Melida if she needed anything and she said milk.  When I opened the fridge there was no milk just my chocolate milk I had planned to have later, but the nice person I am I offered it to her.  She said she needed whit milk so I ran over to the neighbors asked them for some milk and then told them why I needed it.  Of course after that there were a ton of people in my house trying to diagnos melida and everyone was smelling the concoction of cleaner.  After about 20 minutes during which Melida kept asking for a doctor, Diego gave in got in a moto taxi and went for the doctor.  He returned with the doctor in less than 5 minutes.  The doctor was just as calm as Diego, I suspect this isn’t the first time he has been called over to the house for an “emergency” .  As the doctor took her vitals he was cracking jokes with the neighbors and told them she would be fine, even though at this point we still don’t know what she drank…As he smelled the liquid he concluded it was probably just soap and water but to call him later if the domestica told her there was something else in it…and like that he left.  As people began leaving I said goodnight to Melida and she hugged me and said if she dies tonight that I should stay in the house with Diego and that I am a good person.  The next day Melida was alive and kicking eating all sorts of Nacatamales for breakfast.  Turns out it was just soap and water.