Chasing Baseballs and Blondes

¿Qué Paso?

Giant mouse creeps me out: I used to visit Disney World almost every summer when I was a kid, since my grandparents conveniently lived just two blocks from every theme park imaginable in Orlando, Florida. This trip to “Never Never Land” can be seen either as a kids ultimate dream, or perhaps nightmare (depending on whether you are frightened by the idea of adults dressing up as giant sized cartoon characters that always smile and never speak a word). For me, it was magical, at least until I hit the age of 12. Last week, I was once again transported into a “dream/nightmare,” because who did I spot in a local Nicaraguan park helping to celebrate Christmas, well it was none other than Mickey and Minnie. The two were standing in front of a winter wonderland backdrop that depicted a cabin surrounded by snow and pine trees, which is a far cry from the tropical heat of Nicaragua. Instead of feeling nostalgic after sighting those two classic characters, I realized that the years have not been very kind to Mickey and Minnie. Minnie looked a little…well…too “mini.” I suspect a 12 or 13 year old boy and girl were convinced to dress in the costumes. Therefore, it draped rather loosely and four stick skinny legs were all that could be seen. The costume itself was a bit frightening; both had giant plastic heads topped with a red Santa hat. I never thought I would be afraid of costumed cartoon characters, but I felt a flash of fear as I sat rocking on a local park bench. As Minnie caught me looking in her direction she gave me a 4 fingered wave. By this point I had had enough of the park and was fearful that the two giant bobble head characters might wander over in my direction. Suppressing the urge to scream and run, I calmly removed myself from the park bench and made an exaggerated circle of avoidance around the devilishly scary characters. I think it goes without saying that I won’t find myself in a theme park anytime soon.

Another party pic from the birthday party I went to:


Running for peanuts: Inspired to run again, I laced up my favorite sneakers and hit the trail. Of course, in a matter of minutes I was joined by 2 little running partners. Lucky for me, their parents own a local peanut field and I was promised peanuts, lots and lots of peanuts. Plus, I was invited to a birthday party! On my way back I picked up another runner, and she wants to join me everyday…I feel like Forest Gump (minus the mental impediment), when he picked up strangers as he ran his was across the continental US.
Soup Nazi strikes again, “no soup for you”: I made a big batch of soup a week ago, and decided I would freeze some of it to save it for when I didn’t feeling like cooking. Yesterday, I didn’t feel like cooking. In preparation, I had let the soup defrost a bit in the fridge, but there was still a fairly large ice chunk left in the soup. So I took out my big soup pot and poured in the soup/ice so that I could warm it up before eating it. About 1 minute into cooking my gas stove flame burnt out. Not wanting to blow up my house, I waited a few minutes before trying to light it up again (sometimes, the flame gets blown out). As I struck a match flames engulfed me and my stove. My eyebrows singed and the scent of burnt feathers wafted through the air. I ran out to my backyard and stuck my head in a barrel of water. My only concern was that now I was faced with the reality of having to draw in “pencil brows” to replace my old eyebrows. Just kidding, in reality, there were no flames at all (don’t worry I didn’t start a fire and my eyebrows didn’t singe). In truth, my gas tank had run out of gas. In the end, I ate soup with ice chunks, mmmm…mmmm…delicious.

Swarms of mosquitoes increase my chance of Dengue fever (“the bone breaker” disease): I went to a river to hang with some friends. It was actually clean swimming water! We arrived and realized that none of us thought to bring mosquito repellant. We were staying at the river for 7 hours, and in the first hour of arrival I had been bitten at least 30 times, it was going to be a long day. Luckily, we found someone who had brought repellent, and I applied it rather liberally all over. We sat watching kids and adults alike, jump from a 5 foot high “cliff” into about 4 feet of water. I was worried that I would have to pull off a Baywatch rescue, but thank goodness we left before anyone drowned.

My landlady (Alba Rosa) and I at our dinner table during the fiesta:


Christmas season is always a time of joy. Plus, it’s the only time of the year when I get to hear the Mariah Carry Christmas song, which in my opinion should receive play time year-round. This year, I did not hear Mariah belting out her usual “ear piercingly high that only a dog can hear them” notes. No I was subjected to “feliz navidad,” but fortunately I also enjoy this classic tune. Here in Nicaragua, Christmas is celebrated by going out to a big Fiesta on the night of the 24th. However, since I was gathered with two other Peace Corps volunteers we decided to play down the party scene and instead opted to stay in. We bought some “Rompope” (eggnog), and turned on the TV to watch It’s a Wonderful Life while playing the classic game of “Monopolio.” I almost won the game, but I went a “little bit” bankrupt before I could seize all and conquer the game. The next day, since we were all deprived of going out on Christmas, we decided to head to the local park to grab a few drinks. “Tona” is the local beer brand here in Nicaragua. However, if you are a real loser you might order the competing beer brand “Victoria Frost,” which is in fact the exact same beer bottled in a fancier bottle. Of the three of us, there were only two “responsible ones,” while the third volunteer lived it up and was catapulted into a stage of flirtation that I have never before witnessed, it can only be explained as a “Victoria Frost” attack. Anyway, after our beers, two of us headed calmly to get dinner. We dragged along the third volunteer. We took our seats in a booth that overlooked the park. After ordering, our “flirtatious” friend sat glaring out the giant windows of the restaurant. He thought he spotted a fellow gringo/blonde walking through the park, and without warning jumped out of his seat to go investigate. The other volunteer and myself stood up, quickly discussed who should chase after Mr. Flirt, and I was selected to wrangle him back. I followed him through the park as he tailed his blonde. About 20 feet into the pursuit he had given up, I took advantage of the moment and convinced him to go back to the restaurant. He kindly obliged, going calmly back to our booth, and I’m sure that he was rather hungry too. Our food arrived quickly, and we ate. Out of nowhere, a bee appeared and stung the other volunteer on the hand. We were in an air conditioned local fast food chain…where did that bee come from? After we were done eating, paying, and recovering from bee stings we decided to walk home. Mr. Flirt still hadn’t recovered from his “Frost” attack. At this point, a person dressed as a giant baseball passed by the window. Mr. Flirt spotted the baseball (which he proceeded to call a volleyball) and once again jumped up out of his seat to chase after the poor guy in an inflatable baseball costume. However, seeing as how I have cat-like reflexes, I was able to stop him before his pursuit turned into a possible giant baseball assault case. We left, and walked back home, keeping a close eye on Mr. Flirt. Finally, we reached the front door of the volunteer’s house, and we were almost in the clear when two girls walked by us, and Mr. Flirt proceeded to call after one girl, “Te amo” (“I love you”). I shoved him through the front door of the house. Two of us ended the night by watching Disney’s Aladdin, while Mr. Flirt ended his night passed out on the floor. Curiously, he somehow ended up with permanent marker all over his arm, which I can neither explain nor deny, but I consider us even due to all the chasing I had to do!

December, arguably the happiest month of the year

¿Qué Paso?

15th Birthday Party Madness: I went to a huge birthday party in my town and have posted pictures below throughout my blog.

Doggie Power: For my birthday, I received Alteza my new little white fluffy dog. Like me, she is quite sassy. She will bark at me whenever I am not providing her with 100% of my attention. I have started the training process. She can come and sit on command. Now I just wish I could teach her to be quiet and docile on command. She is, however, a puppy and therefore for the time being she is allowed to be hyper!

My neighbors and I before the fiesta!!


Credit card number theft: My credit card number was stolen (not the card itself as I still have possession of it). I hardly ever use the card, but such is life. I hope the people who stole my card number and used it in Columbia had a super awesome steak dinner, which was luckily the only item they charged.

Spider bite (feels like Arachnophobia): I was bitten on the face, twice, by a spider. I was sleeping so I cannot be 100% certain it was a spider bite. Yet, I have spotted above 4 or 5 large spiders hanging around my bed, so I suspect one of them to be the culprit.

The cake!!!


Well, I suppose I have started the month of December off with a bang (as long as “bang” is referring to the ear piercing sound of firecrackers going off in the streets in front of the house where I live)!! The top 5 ways a gringo can spot Christmas in Nicaragua:
1) It appears my neighbors have installed a disco-tec in their living room. No wait, that’s just the reflection of multicolored blinking lights flashing into my house non-stop at all hours.
2) The song “Feliz Navidad” is getting playtime on the radio, and this time the song is being played for “Christmas” vs. just being played for its catchy tune for passengers on the bus during a hot summer’s day in say, June.
3) The ubiquitous “white plastic chair” can be seen in lawns all around town, generally in groups of 50 to 100 filled with people singing 3 to 4 hour songs with endless choruses (and the second verse is NOT the same as the first). Note to Reader: Songs are being sung to the “virgin,” which is usually a 1ft tall figurine placed on the alter surrounded by flowers. “Virgins” can be purchased at the local virgin figurine store (no joke).
4) I feel like I am in a plastic pine tree forest. Don’t worry, I am on the lookout for giant plastic grizzly bears that have been reported in the area.
5) Did someone say: Fiesta? or am I just hearing things...

Another party pic with the b-day girl herself...


It’s official, I am spending the Christmas season in the tropics…Nicaragua style of course. Yesterday, I went into the city of Leon (for some reason that still has not revealed itself to me), because just like the mall on black Friday, the city of Leon was packed to the brim with shoppers, travelers and venders. In three words I would describe it as “a bit hectic.” My reason for going into the city was to accompany a friend who needed to buy some house paint and meat. I thought that I would tag along for the trip to check out the festivities. As usual, there is never a dull moment when walking through the streets. Pirated DVDs and CDs can be purchased on every corner, street venders sell a variety of food from apples to grapes to cheese topped with onions, cream, and finally wrapped in a tortilla. As I wove in and out of the crowd, we made our way around town. Finally, we made it to the grocery store where my friend was going to buy meat! The day was unusually hot for the month of December; however, it was tolerable. Patience is still a virtue that I am working on, and by now I should know that things will always take much longer than I expect them to take. The lines were long, and people plentiful. My friend made her purchases. She had managed to pack 3 fairly large cardboard boxes full of fresh meat (not frozen). Now I thought, we are normally a good 90 minutes away from town via bus. Also, being the holiday season the bus terminals are jam packed with travelers…so how long will it take to get home today…and how long can meat be unrefrigerated while the hot sun pours down on it? While, my questions seemed at least reasonable, my neighbor thought them to be incredulous, and so began our journey. As she was yet unfinished with her shopping, she gave me explicate instruction to take the 3 meat boxes to the bus terminal in Leon and wait…and wait…and wait. One bus came and went, then I saw yet another pass while my friend was still nowhere in sight. She had also insisted on taking the “microbus,” which is a large van that holds upwards of 15 to 20 people. The downside to the micro is that they do not come as frequently and people do not form any kind of organized line to get onto the micro. Therefore, when a micro arrives, a bombardment of people ramshackle its doors and try to pile in using any means necessary just short of biting. I do not enjoy the micro, or its fight to the death boarding methods. I imagined the meat melting inside the boxes due to the heat. Then out of the corner of my eye, I spotted the microbus, without warning the crowd swarmed and my friend jumped from her seat to elbow her was into some seats. I remained composed sitting calmly with the boxes. She won!! We got the 2 front seats in the micro and we were finally on our way home, and to this I said, “Feliz Navidad”. It took about 40 minutes to get home on the micro, which is the up side to taking a micro vs. a big bus. The meat had been unrefrigerated for upwards of 2 to 3 hours, and I was able to collapse into my hammock relived to have returned to my home and town.

My dog, the queen

Betty Crocker gets a Dog

My students and I at the top of the central park Catedral de León

¿Qué Paso?


Who is Betty Crocker: It’s my nickname around the volunteer crowd (add it to the list behind: Brits, Brik, Chela, Gringa, etc etc). Why? because I like to bake in a pot on my stove and often bring my baked goods to be sampled by other volunteers.

Regional Competition: I had one of my groups win the regional competition (they make candles) and here is a link to an article that was featured in the national paper, “La Prensa” about the competition: http://www.laprensa.com.ni/archivo/2008/octubre/24/noticias/regionales/290947.shtml

Surviving a computer and ipod crash: I just haven’t had very good luck lately, because within a week of each other my computer and ipod both crashed. I wasn’t able to recover any of my music or documents, but my computer is backup and running. My ipod on the other hand is pretty dead. I’ve discovered that life without my favorite music is a bit depressing. Thank goodness (sarcasm to the extreme) my neighbors continuously play a CD entitled “Nigga” (that’s the artist’s name, and I have no comment because I don’t know where I would begin).

Don’t pull a “Lenny” on me: I went to get my hair cut for the first time in my town (normally I cut it myself). However, I was getting tired of ending up with uneven hair and so I decided to stop being so “cheap” and pay, what is the equivalent to $1.25, to get a trim. I arrived at the “hair salon or Salon de Belleza” in other words “someone’s house” and found that the inside of the house was decorated to be a mini-salon, while the outside was decorated to be a bar. I sat down in the styling chair and began to describe what kind of cut I wanted. Then the hairdresser started to pin up some of my hair to get started. The moment she touched my hair she said, “So soft” and began petting my head. My head was being treated like a Chia Pet. It should be stated that I use conditioner on a daily basis to get my unbelievably super “soft” and shiny hair. I also occasionally pour a bottle of beer on my head (while taking a sip on the side). It’s like beer battered chicken for your head. While my hair is getting deeply conditioned by the beer I am also simultaneously able to build a reputation as a “bola” or drunk. Once again I am joking about the beer. In all sincerity, I have never tried the “beer rinse” method, but I have heard from my students as well as reputable beauty sources that it builds “shine.” So apparently, I have bunny soft hair (that’s what I get for using conditioner). I am happy to report that I walked out of the salon without be choked to death unlike that poor bunny (Of Mice and Men reference) that never escaped Lenny’s hands.




A little white fluffy dog: I just was “regalar’ed” (in English “gifted”) a little puppy for my birthday. Last year, I received a chicken, which I ate in soup. This year I received a dog, which I began to prepare to put in soup until I was informed that she was, “not the eatin’ type” and would be too tough to be put into soup. I kid, I kid, she was clearly never meant to be put into soup, and don’t worry dogs are not eaten in soup anyway. However, if you happen to be a giant lizard thing (called a Garrobo here in Nicaragua) you are SOL “sorry out of luck” because giant lizard things or anything that resembles a lizard will get turned into soup, also included in the soup are lizard eggs. The soup is quite clearly a “fertility soup” and is consumed by men and children. Fact: “the Garrobo contains every vitamin known to mankind, vitamins A-Z are all contained within the body of this small but miraculous lizard,” direct quote from my neighbor. Anyway, back to my dog, her name is Alteza or translation: Highness. It’s like princess, but I don’t like the name princess because it’s too stuck-up. Plus, my dog is clearly the “Queen” of all dogs and bows down to no one. She wakes me up at 5:20 on the spot to play; even though, I would prefer to wake up around 5:45 or 6. She is full of energy in the morning and at night. All of my school kids love her, I have been warned numerous times to be careful because someone might rob her (this is an actual worry of mine…because it happens a lot to dogs that are fed). However, I tell everyone that she is “Brava,” just like me, which means wild and will attack on command!

Two black eyes: My neighbor was beat up a few days ago because he was wandering through the streets intoxicated. He came out of the fight with a few cuts and two black eyes. The guys who beat him up were also drunk. Fights seem to breakout quite often, and people just hope that there isn’t a machete involved. Then I was asked, “Briks, could you write me a prescription?” To which I answered, “No.” Turns out my neighbor wanted to get refunded for his black eyes. He thought if he could get a receipt (the prescription slip written by a doctor) for his medical costs, he could press charges and get refunded for his condition. In reality, he didn’t go to the doctor and didn’t take any medication. Later on, I had a change of heart, and proceeded to write him a counterfeit prescription receipt. I made the prescription receipt out of 12 x 6 foam paper, complete with glitter stickers and my signature in sky blue Crayola crayon that stated “Doctora “#1 PHD in the World” Briks Jonson” followed by the date (to make it look official) and finally addressed: “Clinic location, from the big tree go 4 blocks east, in front of the house with the dog tied to the tree that yelps really loudly.” Two weeks later, my neighbor won his small claims court case and was awarded $200. To that he thanked me by saying, “Gracias Doctora “#1 PHD in the World” Briks, I will love you foureber an eber.”

It’s not over till I say it’s over: We just held a local competition for the business class I am teaching and we picked 5 winners who will go on to compete at the next level. However, that leaves me with about 300 kids who will not be going to another competition. The school year is not over yet (I have until November) and kids are no longer motivated to participate in the class. Therefore, I have set aside all modesty and have resorted to some desperate measures. Those measures involve: singing songs in English in front of my class (such classics as “Row Row Row Your Boat” and “London Bridge”), adding a round of applause after kids answer questions correctly, incorporating more dynamic games that involve me doing something really dorky like dancing and singing. I have pulled out all stops and do almost anything now to keep them interested and participating in the class. Thank goodness no one is recording my performances on video camera; however, some of my students have camera phones and I do believe my image shows up quite frequently on their cells. Every teacher has got to have a gimmick and my gimmick comes easy because I am a gringa, and therefore inherently crazy and kooky.

September 14th marks a national holiday here in Nicaragua. It is the day of Independence. Therefore, the two months leading up to September are normally filled with preparations in anticipation of the holiday. The high school students have band practice and marching practice to prepare for the big day. However, this year the public high school in my town was short on funds, and therefore could not afford to have their drums, and other various instruments repaired. Thus, band practice became obsolete, because they had no instruments to practice. My students were sad, but I soon found out that although we were without instruments we would not be without band practice. For the past 2 months my kids have had “imaginary band practice,” pretending to play (but with nothing to practice or play with). This might sound like a sad situation, but it truly was a blessing in disguise. I recall last year’s drooling band practice, 7am to 8pm all day long banging drums and I instruments off beat and out of tune. Plus, even though they practiced for two whole months they never seemed to improve. The noise was unbearable. This year was much quieter. Since we had imaginary band practice kids would still get out of a large number of classes to “practice,” which is a bit of an annoyance when teachers are trying to teach and cover material. The other good news was that last year band practice was held during normal class hours. The drums would be banging at full volume, while I tried to strain my voice an octave higher to be heard by my students. It was frustrating. This year I didn’t have that problem! There is a happy ending to this story, because at the very last minute (4 days ahead of time) the parents were able to wrangle up enough money to fix the school’s broken instruments. In the end, all my students were able to have a band (and the sounded pretty decent the day of their performance) and I didn’t have to suffer through months of grueling practice.

Catedral de León


A few months ago I decided that I wanted some fresh cooked beans for my lunch. Now, I suppose I should first state the facts leading up to this story. I used to buy cooked beans from a woman who lives two blocks from my house. She was also very friendly and made a great batch of beans. I started to become a little too overly dependent on her delicious cooking and found myself going to buy beans nearly every other day. Then, her husband started hanging around the house more often. At first he was friendly, but that’s usually how it starts. Then he became a little too friendly, and he turned into outright obnoxious. Then one day his comments were too much, and I had to make a sacrifice: beans or no beans that was the question. If I wanted delicious home cooked beans that was the place to get them, but I decided that I didn’t want to be harassed by the bean lady’s husband every time I bought beans, and therefore I just had to find a new bean vendor. I asked my friends and neighbors, but most of them cook their own beans, and therefore do not need to buy beans from a bean vendor. Finally, one of my friends suggested a new bean lady. She lived a little further on the outside of town, but she didn’t have a creepy husband hanging around the house (like my previous bean lady). So I thought to myself, “why not? I can handle change.” The next day I went and bought some cooked beans to make a bean casserole (aka beans with tortilla, not really much of a casserole but I like to delude myself). Anyway, I was about 6 bites into my bean dish when something went CRUUUUNCH in my mouth. It was a rock. There was A ROCK in my beans. NOOOO!! Because not only had I bitten down hard on a rock but I had managed to bite down hard with one of my back molars and the consequence of this action was a broken tooth. So much for change. My new bean lady obviously didn’t wash the beans before cooking them, hence a rock being in my cooked beans. Due to transportation strikes at the time I was unable to go to a dentist for 1 month. Luckily, my tooth root had not been exposed; however, I did find myself missing half of my molar and unable to eat on the left side of my mouth. When I finally got to go into the dentist, she asked me what had happened. I recounted the rock in my beans story, and she seemed to sympathize with me before stating the obvious: “Why don’t you just cook your own beans from now on.” Since my tooth incident I have found myself eating less beans and rice, and I still have not resorted to cooking my own beans…yet.

My dog Alteza

It’s none of your beeswax; plus, popsicle stick sculptures and noodle art

¿Qué Paso?:

Vaga Briks (in English, I’m a wanderer): I have not written in a while, sorry, but I have been rather occupied with grading exams, running around town on my bike searching for people, falling off bridges, planning competitions, avoiding bolos (drunks) and evangelicals, and teaching English. I am super tiered nowadays, with lots and lots to do all the time (and I am not complaining…things to do are AWESOME!). That is my accuse as to why I haven’t been keeping up with my blog…but here I sit finally with a little free time, and I thought I would catch everyone up with what’s been happening…

Rainy Season: The rainy season has started, and all my clothes are damp and things are starting to mold on me.

Ups and downs: I am still enjoying my time here although there are always ups and downs. For example, I was ripped off on a bus (and didn’t say anything because it wouldn’t have solved anything) but I was happily surprised when someone in my town stuck up for me and managed to get my money back.

Politically correct: Lately, it has been difficult to deal with the built up political tensions between people, why can’t we all just get along? For me, it has been a lesson in diplomacy: how to get people who so ardently dislike one another to come to an agreement or dare I say compromise.

Party time: My town festival is in full swing this weekend. The streets are lined with people eating cotton candy, candied apples and enjoying themselves. I was people watching yesterday and eating a rather delightful dinner, when a waft of exhaust entered my nostrils. My stomach turned a little, from the unpleasant scent, and I looked around to see where it had originated from, and that’s when I saw a motorcycle trying to make its way down to crowded and packed street. “Why?” I thought. It’s not like this is the only street in town. The only explanation was that he was “showing off” his motorcycle and meanwhile he almost ran over half the people in town.

A mule, a gordo and a priest: This sounds like a joke, but in all honesty it actually happened, and I witnessed it all. Although, I didn’t take any pictures to prove it. Last weekend, was our town’s horse festival. People ride around the town on big horses. This year, the priest decided to get in on the action, and mounted a horse, but no one taught him how to control the animal. The priest was recklessly riding around town, nearly running everyone down. Next, a “gordo” (fat man) rode a stocky mule. The poor animal was grunting under the heavy load, but the fat man didn’t seem to notice and kept taking sips from his brown paper bagged bottle of booze.

It's a rug...the kids created this project and wrote up a business plan including how to market and finance the product

Last weekend I found myself boarding a bus on a search for the most beautiful river in Nicaragua. Conveniently, the river was only a short ride from my town, plus a quick ox ride and finally finishing up with a brisk walk. By the time I arrived at the river I was more impressed by the many methods of transportation it took to reach the river than the river itself. This bus ride, was the usual chaotic ride, almost comparable to Toads Wild Ride at Disney World (note, I said almost). The Ox chart is where things got a bit more fun! First of all, these two poor oxen were carrying a load of wood (for cooking), and my nica friend asked if we could hop on the back of the cart too. The 3 of us were sitting among piles of wood being pulled by two oxen. We were going at a snail’s pace. So slow in fact that if there was a grandmother with a walker on the side of the road she would have quickly passed and left us in her “walker dust”. My friend was jumping on and off the chart to take pictures (having plenty of time to snap a picturesque shot and easily catch up). I was trying to shield my eyes from the overwhelming sun, and remain patient. Even though walking would have been a more productive use of time, my friends refused to walk the 1 kilometro. That is correct; we were not going very far, just 1k. As the oxen drudged on, so did we. Then we hit a rut in the road (bound to happen) and pieces of firewood went flying off. The already slow ride became even slower. Kids helped to collect the wood and redistributed it onto the cart. Next, we hit a giant mud pit. The cart’s wheels became embedded in the mud. The ox had to pull extra hard through the pit. Finally, we reached our destination (mas o menos). The riverbed was dried up and the water was a muddy color. Right now, the river is not a very pretty site, but in a few months and with some more rain it will be a site to behold (and I will only behold the site again as long as I don’t have to ride on the back of an ox chart). They are slow animals, and I am just fine walking!

A few weeks ago, a student decided to throw a chair across the room into the wall. The student was apparently angry that I had kicked him out of class. I didn’t realize he was so quick to anger, because the intonation in my voice was nothing but normal and calm. I gave him several warnings ahead of time and then resorted to asking him to leave. However, he did not like this option, thus the chair being thrown. Well, it turns out having a student throw a chair in a rage of anger has its advantages. The students are now working harder than ever to get their work done!

Who needs a bike seat? Someone stole the bolts right off of my bike. One minute, the bolts were all in their place and the next minute my bike seat was doing a 360-degree swivel and my handle bars were all out of whack. I think it’s also worth saying that this was at a different school than the “chair throwing” school. I approached my school’s principal about the incident, mainly to see if anyone happened to get a glance at the perpetrator. Then the next thing I know, all my kids were apologizing to me. The principal decided to call a school assembly to announce to everyone that the gringa’s bike had been tampered with, and the result was that all my kids decided to apologize non-stop.

There is never a dull moment on a bus in Nicaragua, and this past week I found myself on a bus with 2 very drunken men (along with about 40 other people who were just trying to get home). Of course, the men were super obnoxious, but no one wanted to kick them off the bus. Therefore, for 2 hours we had to put up with their rambling, shouting and overall craziness. I was super glad when I was able to get off.

Another business group of mine, they are making decorations for fiestas

I suppose I should clarify 1 thing first, I teach 4^th year students who range in age of 14-18. The class I teach is simple to explain: A business course that promotes creativity. All year long, we work on increasing students’ business knowledge and then they apply their new knowledge to an actual working business that they are developing/creating for the class. In the month of September, we have the first of 3 competitions. As a motivating factor, the kids know that their business plans and products will be entered into this competition. I just had the first competition at the local level. I had about 43 groups of students competing all year long for 5 slots. Before, the actual day of my competition I was able to eliminate quite a few groups aka kids with popsicle stick art and ode to macaroni art. From those kids I narrowed it down even more to the top 12 groups. These groups then competed for the 5 spaces to go onto the Regional Competition. It was a tough decision, but the groups that worked the hardest (in my opinion) did come out as the clear winners. I am happy to report that all of my students did their work, which means they wrote a complete business plan. However, the day after the competition was tough, because the kids’ motivation was way down. I spent most of my class doing team building activities. Now I am busy planning the Regional and National Competition, which will take place in October and November respectively.

In an effort to help prepare a group of students for our local competition, I decided to take a bike ride with them to help look for bees wax (they were utilizing the wax in their product). They are making candles from bees wax, but of course, we had to hunt down the person who sells the wax. No one knew exactly where this person lived, but they knew he lived pretty far down this long road. In Nicaragua, there used to be a train that crossed across the country. Although the train and track are long gone, the signs of train tracks can still be seen across the countryside. In fact, this explains why there are many small seemingly random towns spread across the countryside. At one point in time, these towns ran along the train line. Anyway, my journey to find the bees wax man took me along the former train track lines. We were a group of 5, peddling along on our bikes. Now because there are no longer tracks, but the rivers remain, we were presented with a bit of a conundrum when crossing water. There are unsteady rickety wooden planks in the spots of the former train tracks. Below the rickety wooden planks, lay muddy, mucky cow patty littered coffee colored puddles of “water.” Now since we had our bikes with us, we were forced to make the crossings extra carefully, with the bikes resting on our shoulders. I really should work on my balancing skills, because in hindsight it would have paid off to have tightrope walking skills. We finally found the “bee” man but just our luck, he wasn’t home. I hopped back on to my bike, and as a group, we started biking 1 hour back into town. On the way out to the bee house, we had to cross 4 “bridges” and so on our return trip we would also be faced with 4 bridge crossings. I crossed the first without any troubles. Then we came upon the second, and I crossed again rather quickly. I was getting a bit cocky with my bridge crossing skills, and instead of taking my time, I was practically running across each bridge. Then I hit bridge number 3, I made it halfway across, lost my balance, and before I fell, I decided to hop off into the mucky water. I landed straight, my bike still resting on my right should, mud up past my knees. I hopped out of the mud rather easily, but my ego was greatly deflated and I road 1 hour back to town a muddy mess. Then I had to take a bus ride for 45 minutes in all my muddy glory. I got home around 6pm to find I had no running water, and I have learned another lesson about hubris and showing off.