¿Que Pasa?
Power line comes crashing through my roof: A few weeks ago, Nicaragua was hit with Hurican Alma. My house sustained some damage (like a hole in the roof due to a wayward power line toppling into it), but my neighbors sustained even more damage to their homes. During the storm, a chavalo decided to climb onto my neighbor’s roof to help secure the tiles. There were ramas (branches) everywhere and giant trees were uprooted and lay in complete disorder. We were without electricity, water and phone service. Luckily, my town was able to pick up the pieces rather quickly and normalcy was restored within a few days (however, my house is still without power).
Dog sitting: My neighbors decided to take a trip into the city for two days and asked if I could house sit and dog sit for them. I, of course, agreed and was left in charge. I went over to their house around mid-morning to feed and check on the dog. My neighbors left a giant bowl of chicken soup in their fridge for the dog to eat. They told me that the chicken was settled at the bottom of the pot and to make sure I dished out pieces of chicken with the broth. So, I poured some of the soup into the dog’s bowl but I noticed that none of the chicken made it into the bowl. I reached my hand into the soup to grab some chicken. Well, my neighbors forgot to mention that the “chicken” that they put into the soup was actually just chicken feet and hearts. My hand made contact with the pointy chicken nails at the bottom of the pot, and I didn’t quite realize what I was touching. I slowly withdrew my hand from the pot to discover that I was grasping feet and hearts.
My fan died: After serving me for an entire hot season, my fan finally gave up and stopped working (the motor had been overworked). I panicked because it was still super hot and I knew I would not be able to make it through the night without a fan. So that afternoon I went out and purchased a new fan (that will hopefully not breakdown and keep me cool).
Go for a 3-pointer: My town has a basketball team, and every Saturday and Sunday I enjoy sitting on the sidelines and watching them play. One team has a player named “El niño (“the kid”),” who is anything but a niño. Instead, he stands 6’5” and is more like a giant wall. However, he isn’t very agile or athletic, but he is really good at blocking the way.
The trash band: The trash collectors just added a new bonus to their service, not only will they pick up your trash but they will also have a band (that sits amongst the trash) play a little ditty of a song.
Happy Mother’s day (bring on the band): The month of May was Mother’s month. However, only 1 day of the month is devoted full out to the moms. The usual fanfare is to have a band serenade your mother’s at the wee hours of the morning (anytime around 3:30am or 4am). I am not a mom or a wife, but my neighbors still thought it would be fun to include the gringa in all the festivities. Therefore, at exactly 3:45am I had a 2 singers in a flatbed truck lined with giant speakers stilling outside of my house singing 4 songs. I was just a little angry. When the songs finally ended I thought I could get back to sleep (oh how wrong I was). The truck moved only 2 houses away and began the same serenade again and again and again. I had to hear it 4 times before they were finally out of earshot.
Bat killer: I killed a bat. Enough said.
When the power goes out in the night, everything is encapsulated by blackness. Therefore, it is wise and recommended to stay indoors. One night, the power went out and the rain started to pound on my roof. In my home state of Colorado it rains, but in Nicaragua it pours. I have never witnessed such a torrential downfall of rain, and the thunder that accompanied the rain hit me to the core. No one in their right mind was going to leave their house during this storm. That is when I received a knock on my front door, only to find my friendly neighborhood stalker standing in front of me asking to borrow some salt. I lent him my salt. Then a few minutes later, he was back again to return my salt. I took my salt back. Then he proceeded to ask to borrow some chiltomas (peppers). I lent him some peppers. Then he asked to borrow the salt again. This escapade was probably going to continue on and so I decided to put an end to it by telling him I was going to go to bed.
The power line that across the street from my house
As a small child of five, I vividly remember visiting the Barnum and Bailey circus. Acrobats, trapeze artists, elephants, and clowns all given their own separate performing space in the giant cement auditorium filled full of screaming kids and reluctant adults who brought their children to the event. The clowns are my fondest memory, for some, the image of a clown might conjure up feelings of fear, but that is just because as a child they probably saw the movie “It”. Brief movie synopsis: a killer clown is on the loose and he is after a bunch of suburbanites, I know terrifying. I can honestly say that I do not have this fear of clowns, and I owe this in part to the fact that I didn’t see the movie “It” until I was around 20 years old, and by then the graphics, special effects and plot were outdated. Anyway, back to the clowns, I always loved the act where about 15 clowns piled into and out-of a tiny vehicle that appeared only large enough to hold 1 person in the first place. So how did they all fit? It is one of the great-unsolved mysteries of all times; right up there with, how did the Egyptians build the pyramids? I will uncover that mystery later. Besides, I highly doubt anyone knows the secret to the clown car. However, last night I came as close as ever to unveiling the mystic that surrounds this illusion (Note to reader: start playing the music “It’s the final countdown” in your head; trust me, it will make what I am about to say even more amazing and wondrous). Ok ready, music playing? I am about to reveal the mystery of the clown car: How do so many clowns fit into one isty-bitsy, tinny-tiny, minuscule vehicle? Well, the answer is quite simple, they all chinear one another, bending and contorting their bodies into the vehicle. Yep, it’s that simple and it might seem rather obvious. Now that I have revealed the “big” secret, you’re probably thinking to yourself, I already knew that (or you might be thinking what in the world does chinear mean). While I am sure you’ve pondered this great mystery, and “chinearing” was a likely hypothesis, you ruled it out as being “not physically possible.” However, I am here to tell you that in fact it is physically possible…how do I know this as being 100% true? The answer, I have been inside of a clown car and pulled this body contortion act (also known as chinear in Español) in front of all the people in my town. Enough about clowns, it’s time to recapture the scenario that took place one fateful night in Malpaisillo Leon (my site).
The day started like any other, I awoke to my neighbors blasting the “Happy birthday Jam remix CD,” the one where the creepy guy pronounces the word “birthday” as “BIRDday” (in a most disturbing voice). Yes, that is the music I awake to every single morning, it is the bane of my existence. I rolled out of bed and put a pot of water on the stove for coffee, because I don’t function without at least 1 cup of coffee. Next, I finished washing my laundry that I let soak in my “pan” overnight. At 6am, my neighbors came over, glad that I was up, so that they could ask me a very pertinent question “Brigs (not my real name, but sadly that’s what I am known as in my town…close enough I guess),”What are you doing today?” My reply, “It’s Saturday, so I will be cleaning, mopping, etc. etc.” Their faces lit up (almost a little too brightly) and I knew I had roped myself into yet another commitment without even knowing what that commitment entailed. Turns out, they wanted me to cook a pancake breakfast, and later they wanted to cook lunch for me, and we would all finish out the day by going to a disco dance club. The day went by rather quickly; the pancakes were fluffy, golden brown and delicious. Lunch, was a slice of fishy goodness on a plate, fried of course, but good nevertheless. Around 8pm I was informed that we would be leaving in 30 minutes (calculated Nica time: if x=Gringo time of departure, y=Nica time of departure, and z= random variable such as: visitors show up at the front door to talk or maybe a Jehovah witness tries to convert me or better yet the 30 year old man down the street proposes to me, again). Entonces, who needs a mathematical equation to tell me what my gut already knows, we won’t really be leaving in 30 minutes…at the earliest we will be leaving in 1 hour. It’s no big deal, because the disco tech is only 3 blocks down the street from my house, or approximately 3.2 minutes via foot.
One hour and 15 minutes passes by, and I am finally summoned to come outside to leave for the party. That’s when I see it, a 1987 white Toyota sitting in front of my neighbors house, and I think immediately, “Oh no, where are we going?” Turns out my fechenta neighbors, pulled out the car to drive to the disco. I will reiterate the fact that the disco is 3 blocks from my house, yes that is correct, just 3 blocks. They had pulled out their car to go 3 blocks. Now I must admit that this came as only a moderate surprise, because it has happened before. In fact, a week earlier, they pulled out the car to go only two blocks, to the restaurant, Cielo NICA, located around the corner. And 3 weeks prior, they pulled out the car to go to the panadaria that is quite literally 1 block around the corner (and I’m not talking city blocks here, I am talking regular suburban street blocks). Anyway, I played along and got into the car…but not too fast…because there was a crowd surrounding the car…strange, right?…turns out everyone was going for a ride, all 8 of us. My neighbors all started to get into the car and I proceeded forward, to jump in as well, but I was politely held back and told to wait my turn. My turn, turned out to be dead last, because it turns out, I had chosen the short straw, and therefore was going to be “chineared”. I cautiously wiggled one of my legs into the vehicle, next I hunched over and tried to fit into the car (that was already carrying 7 other people). Slowly, carefully, cautiously, I slipped my other leg into the car, now came the difficult part, closing the door. Good thing I’m not claustrophobic, and I thought to myself, good thing we are only going 3 blocks. Stupid, stupid, stupid (I am referring to myself here and not the reader…so please continue…). I should have known, we weren’t going straight to our destination because Saturday night in Malpaisillo is iqual to “cruising night,” shouting out the window a grandiose “ADIOS” and waving to everyone in sight. What a whip (whip= slang for car/cool ride) we were rollin’ on 27 inch chrome colored (although not actual chrome) rims, blasting Los Toros Band, and rockin’ the hydraulics (actually I don’t think the car had any hydraulics but I am pretty sure it was missing a few springs).
Forty-five minutes later, after making 15 laps around town, we finally arrived at the disco (remember the disco is only 3 blocks from my house). My left leg had lost feeling about 30 minutes into the ride and my neck is now permanently angled 15 degrees to the right (due to having been chineard and thus forcing me to hunch my head). And that is how I know, for a fact, with 100% certainty that it is possible to fit numerous clowns into 1 tiny vehicle….
