Beware of manholes…and it just hit me today, how did I ever truly live life without a hammock in my living room?

2 second updates (aka ¿Qué Paso?):

Days in oscura (total darkness): 0…my lights have been fixed
Days without water at night: 0 (alright!)
Roof leaks: hopefully 0…once it rains really hard I will know for sure, but the chavalos just fixed my roof …again
Gripe/bacterial infection/parasite/general maladies: Zip, zilch, zero
Interesting news: As if school isn’t canceled enough, apparently El Dia de Trabajo (the day honoring workers)…all school and work is canceled
Boyfriend update: His name is Marco, he lives down the street from me…HAHA jk…in truth, he is a little 5 year old boy who calls himself my “novio” (boyfriend)
Cuts caused by barbed wire: current count, 3 ...I cut myself again while putting up the laundry

Easy bake oven…Peace Corp style! So I feel like I should receive some type of Girl Scout badge (preferably a pink badge with a hand stitched picture of cookies with steam evaporating off of them) for the oven project I just successfully completed. I was missing wheat bread, and baked goodies…therefore I decided to build a Dutch Oven using a big pot, 1 tuna can, and 1 small cake pan. Operation “oven” not only works but actually makes tasty goodies too! I baked oatmeal cookies for all of my counterparts using this contraption. Who knows what I will be baking next…but skies the limit.

Here is my oven in all its glory...by the way that´s what banana bread looks like when baked in a pot on a stove!

What is a nacatamal? Answer, a little slice of heaven rolled up into a banana peel. But in reality, I was not exactly sure what was in a nacatamal (even though I have eaten them numerous times). Therefore, I started an investigation to find out the ingredients that make up this dinner and/or breakfast food (yup, I have eaten it for breakfast!). This is what I came up with:

A nacatamal is a popular Nicaraguan food sold on the bus or in the local pueblo. It usually contains beef, rice, onion, tomato, potato, maiz, and is served piping hot rolled up in a banana leaf. The consistency of the nacatamal is comparable to the consistency of stew (it’s a bit soupy). How does one go about eating this culinary delight? Not quite sure. Usually, when I buy a nacataml I don’t have any silverware (because chances are I am on a bus going 40kph (approximately 25 mph) through mountain, river and volcano territory. So I resort to using my hands (extremely messy). I have become a master of the gobble and scoop method of eating. Did I mention I have also gotten pretty sick after eating a nacatamal?? However, I am not so quick as to equate this sickness with the nacatamal itself, but rather with the fact that I was eating with my hands (I will be the first to admit…kinda gross…but gotta do what you gotta do…and sometimes that involves eating a nacataml with un-sanitized hands on a rollercoaster of a bus ride).

Yesterday, I woke up to discover a large majority of my shoes and clothes had molded. Fun stuff. What kills mold? I decided bleach (cloro) would do the trick. Now I am left with a lot of white, splotchy clothing that smells of cloro but at least nothing is moldy. I am told that in the hot season (March-July) it doesn’t rain at all and therefore mold isn’t a problem. I hate to say that I am looking forward to the heat but I really hate mold, so give me the sun!

I thought it might be fun to post a few recipes of common/popular Nicaraguan foods, so that those in the States can share in a cross-culture experience without ever leaving the comfort of the kitchen! Here is the first recipe in a series of 5:

Dish name: Gallo Pinto

Serves 5

When do you eat it? Morning, noon and night!!!

Prep time: 10 minutes

Cook time: 35 minutes

Ingredients:

- 1 bolsa arroz (approximately 1lb. of cooked rice)

- frijoles cociendos de 10 cords (approx. 4 cups cooked red beans; drained)

- 1 cebolla (1 medium sized onion)

- 3 chiltomas (3 small green or red peppers; or 1 big green pepper)

- 1 taza aceite (1 cup vegtable oil)

Directions:

1) Finely dice cebolla (onion) and chiltomas (pepper). Rinse white rice under clean tap water. Pour ½ taza aceite (1/2 cup oil) into a large pot. First, fry rice with cebolla and chiltomas. Next, add water to rice, cover pot, and allow rice to steam cook for approximately 20 to 30 minutes.

2) Meanwhile, put a ½ taza of aceite (1/2 cup oil) into a frying pan and deep fry the already cooked frijoles. Once rice is finished cooking, add in fried beans. Serve gallo pinto with corn tortilla and crema (cream).

**For a healthier version of Gallo Pinto, omit the oil/frying stages of rice and beans.

I haven’t been doing a lot of teaching lately due to fiestas. However, I will share an episode that occurred during the last class I taught, which seems like 10 weeks ago (in reality it was 2 days ago but class has been canceled nearly every other day)…The kids piled into the room, noisy as usual, and a bit restless. The class lecture finally got underway and then it happened…the girls started to put on their make-up in class and the boys brought out their cologne to trade amongst one another. CRASH… SPATTER… What is that smell?? A boy dropped a huge bottle of cologne and the bottle shattered into a million pieces quickly engulfing the room with the scent of P.Diddy (not sure if this is exactly what P.Diddy smells like…and if it is what he smells like, I would not be surprised if people kept a 20 foot radius from him…needless to say his perfume brand reeks of suave). While this scene was occurring, another boy in the class was singing his favorite reggaetone hits in un voz más alto (loudly). Finally, a girl in the front row wrapped her bandana completely around her face to avoid the fumes vaporizing from the floor. Now how was I supposed to focus the class after this chaotic episode? Given the fact that there was 20 minutes left of the class, it was impossible to settle everyone back down. The boy who dropped his cologne was forced to mop it up and class was dismissed. Lesson learned: if chavalos want to smell like P. Diddy, please do it outside of class time and preferably away from my nariz (nose)!

Watch out for the manholes…they’ll get ya every time! Alright, I made a whirlwind trip stopping by in Managua on my way to visit my old host family. Having been away from the city for 7 weeks I forgot my bearings and almost fell into a 10 foot deep manhole. Argh! In my small town there aren’t any manholes to worry about (thank goodness). But Managua seems to be plagued with uncovered manholes on every street. I saw a recent newscast (thanks, canal diez…channel 10) of a man who had fallen into one of these horrible traps and gotten stuck. Of course, as luck would have it, it started to rain and the man’s life was quickly put into jeopardy. No worries, he was saved and pulled out of the manhole not a minute too soon. However, a word of advice would be to always pay attention to the ground and avoid manholes at all costs!

My host family mom and me...posing in her living room.

I am now the proud owner of a hamaca (hammock, see picture below). It is in my living room. I love it! In fact I am sitting in my hamaca, right now, typing this blog. Earlier today I ate lunch in my hamaca. Ayer (yesterday), I said forget sleeping in a bed…it’s all about sleeping in the hamaca! What a wonderful invention…so cool, comfortable (my gosh this is beginning to sound like an infomercial…and for only $6.99 you too can own your very own hamaca, genuine cotton, comes in an assortment of colors, free shipping…call now, phone operators are standing by!) Ok, so some Nicaraguans do have hamacas in their living room or outside in their backyard (it’s not just me, the weird gringa). I am culturally adopting and to do so correctly I must have a hamaca in my living room.

A few days ago I hitched a ride to a small school an hour away. I jumped in the front seat of the car to discover…a wooden seat that used to be part of a rocking chair. The seat was now being used to cover the usual fabric upholstered car seat. This person had taken the wooden seatback and placed it in their car, sans rocking chair gliders, to make the seat more comfortable. Now, I was skeptical at first. How could a hard wooden seat be more comfortable than the cushy fabric upholstery? But guess what, after an hour car ride my posture had improved (no more slumping down in my seat) and I felt revitalized. So I would like to make a suggestion to all car manufacturers…ditch the fabric cushioned seats and opt for a hard wooden seats instead!

Beach Essentials: Flip-flops (absolutely), towel (maybe), jeans (most definitely), t-shirt (unquestionably), seashell animal (I guess?)

Van, Deenah and Brie (Small Business Volunteers Nica 44) having a blast in Leon!

Quick Updates:

Multi-Tools utilized: 6 tools used (46 more to go)
Dog and Rooster: The dog has been released from his tree…the rooster still remains tied up (for the record, I didn’t have anything to do with the dog’s release)
Days in oscura (total darkness)**: 18 and counting
Days without water at night: 0 (woo hoo)
Injuries due to oscura: 3 bruises total. I have collided with a chair, the frig, and a gas tank
Count Chocula and Squeakers (the bat and mouse that occupy my house): Bat is dead (RIP) but Squeakers still comes to visit me
Dog bites received: 0; Close encounters 57 and counting
Gripe/bacterial infection/parasite/general maladies: Right now I am in perfect health…but if I eat shady looking bus food again (which I will!!) who knows what I will come down with…I am hoping for a parasite (JOKING).

**I read using small candles that I have stuck in empty tuna cans (make-shift candle holder…necessity is the mother of invention). I have not burned anything down…yet. However, I have had a few “close encounters” and have learned to turn the pages of my book a little further away from the open flame of the candle. Moreover, I have learned to breathe lightly in an effort to prevent candlelight flickering. Yet, I have learned not to breathe too lightly as to cause lightheadedness, dizziness and fatigue (all common side effects of not breathing)!

The beach...what a view!

A lot of clothing worn in Nicaragua is second hand U.S. clothing. As a result, the t-shirts have American idioms. Clearly, this is a Spanish speaking country and some people cannot read or speak English. Therefore, when these people purchase used U.S. clothing they cannot read the t-shirt phrases that are written in English. The result is a new section of my blog I call “T-shirt Irony”:

1. “Kiss Me I’m a Beta Sigma Phi”—This t-shirt was worn by a rather overweight, middle aged woman
2. “New Mom: Proud mother of twins” –This shirt was worn by a woman who appeared to be in her mid to late 70’s

Going to the beach in Nicaragua is a bit different than going to the beach in the states. Instead of taking cloths off, it is required to put more on! The best bathing suit is a pair of jeans and t-shirt. Simply roll the jeans a bit and wade ankle deep into the water. Of course, never go swimming in the water because it is peligroso (dangerous)! However, there are several beaches that tend to be touristier and therefore it is just fine to wear a bikini and actually swim in the water. Nevertheless, it is always important to bring appropriate beach wear (jeans) just in case the beach has a lot of Nicaraguans, because then it is time to culturally adopt and cover up…this isn’t Baywatch! Finally, popular items sold at the beach are tiny animals made of seashells. Nicaraguans love these little knickknacks, and they make wonderful gifts.

Local transportation, only 3 cordobas (or 16 cents to go anywhere in the city):

I was recently invited to work with a local group consisting of 7 community members. The group has a list of community improvement projects that they would like to start. Hopefully, I can lend some support and organize the group into action. There seems to be lots of talking and little action. Also, group meetings are often canceled due to fiestas. Finally, the group wants me to become a member. I, however, explained to the group that it would be more beneficial to recruit members from the community. The group did not like this suggestion and still hopes that I will join. I believe they also expect me to be a group leader, while I would rather be a facilitator (I am thinking sustainable development).

There was a really big fiesta this past weekend in my town. Candied apples, cotton candy, transvestites (yep…men dressed in make-up and woman’s clothing selling food), fried food, a Farris Wheel and a live band. It had all the ingredients of a party. The Toña was flowing and people were having a good time. Toña is a Nicaraguan beer brand…there are only 2 options Toña or Victoria both happen to be owned by the same company (theme song for Victoria “Amigos, Amigos”). I am surprised by how dressed up people get for fiestas. The road is covered in dirt, or in some parts cobblestone and personally I find it difficult to walk the street in tennis shoes. But for fiesta time Nicaraguan woman wear their high heals, big earrings, make-up, perfume and sparkly tops or glitter dresses. This feat requites balance that I do not possess; therefore, I left my stilettos at home and went for comfort wearing jeans and a pair of flats…with a sparkle top (oh ya!!).

Fiesta time in my town...this is the high school drum team.

Mas fiesta...this is the dance squad

I am going to preface this part of my blog with a bit of background information about myself. I am not an actor nor have I ever been a stand-up comic, impersonator, or ventriloquist. That being said, I have a Nicaraguan counterpart who lives in my town, which I often visit with to practice Spanish. He will always ask me millions of questions about American customs. Most recently he asked me to impersonate different accents such as the New York frenzied inflection, Texas twang, and finally the British brogue. I told him quite simply I couldn’t speak in the different intonations. He didn’t understand this answer. He said, “If they all speak English why can’t you just speak like them... come on Brie just try.” He kept egging me on and got a little impatient with the fact that I was unable to “bust out” these accents on cue. I then turned the table and asked him to speak using a Spaniards accent. He proceed to change the topic…I think he got the point!

Here are a few more funny questions I have received from Nicaraguans (including my responses):

1. Are discos (dance clubs) different in the U.S.?

My response: Nope, they are pretty similar. On second thought, less reggaetone!

2. Why are all Americans fat?

My response: Not all Americans are overweight but unhealthy food and lack of exercise leads to weight problems.

3. What kind of food do Americans eat?

My response: We have a mélange (no, I did not actually use this “exact” vocab in Spanish but I still got my main point across…nosotros tenemos comida diferente) of food from different countries. My favorite is Chinese food.

4. Everyone in the U.S. has a maid…right?

My response: Nope, a majority of people clean their own home, wash their own dishes, cook their own food and wash their own clothes. (Cultural difference: a lot of people in Nicaragua hire help to cook and launder. In fact, I have seen more maids here in Nicaragua then I have ever encountered in the States).

5. What types of jobs do immigrants to the U.S. have?

My response: You have family in the States, what kind of work do they do? (I found this question difficult to answer. Many Nicaraguans have family members abroad. Therefore, I feel Nicaraguans are more apt to answer this question then I am).

This reminds me of my marching band days at CU!

A little something I have learned from the T.V. series Seinfeld: the phrase “Serenity Now”. This is my new mantra. A few days ago, I experienced one of the worst bus rides to date. I boarded the big yellow bus at 12 and the departure was scheduled for 12:30. Thirty minutes inside a bus with the sun beating down caused me to sweat profusely. Then the bus finally began to move and the air started circulating. To my horror, someone complained that their hair was being messed up and the bus conductor started shutting all the windows, which created the furnace effect (extremely hot and suffocating). Of course, I was also on the bus with about 60 chavalos (crazy kids) who were throwing paper, candy, gum, and fruit. Meanwhile, around 5 boys were wrestling in the back of the bus. Plus, boys were going around pulling the hair of the girls. The little hellions arrived at their stops one by one and as their numbers dwindled peace was restored. I call this experience my typical Tuesday bus ride (because I relive this scene every signal Tuesday). Throughout the ride, I just keep repeating “Serenity now, serenity now, serenity now.”

This past weekend a few of the volunteers (including myself) took a beach day vacation, which I will sum-up in one sentence: A dog took a tinkle winkle on my bag mistaking it for a tree, the waves were so rough I got sand in my ears, small children were selling seashell animals to tourists and for lunch I ate a delicious fish fillet.

The parade finished up in la concha (the field). There were lots of fireworks and food was being sold in the stands. The different drum squads had a "drum off" and the crowd cheered like crazy for their favorite group!

If this blog entry could have theme music it would be the title track from the popular 80’s flick Ghostbusters “I ain’t afraid of no Ghosts”

Quick update, there is another bat in my house. I have named him Count Chocula (now I have 2 pets: 1 mouse and 1 bat). I am soliciting name suggestions for the mouse (I was thinking of naming him Stewart Little, except my mouse does not know how to drive a car but I am pretty sure he can throw one heck of a fiesta). Count Chocula hasn’t been killed yet, but I think this week may be his last. My host family said they were going to “take care of the problem” this weekend, which makes me believe they have mob connections. It’s kind of like an episode of “The Sopranos,” except they “off” bats instead of gangsters.

This picture was taken in the back of a micro bus. Local transportation is a blast! One can travel anywhere in the country via bus!!! (Left to Right fellow volunteers: Deenah, Van and Me)

5 Simple steps to hitching a ride in Nicaragua, because the bus that was scheduled to pick-up people failed to show-up:

1. Find a truck with a large flatbed, full gas tank and a driver, because it transports more people at a faster rate with limited pushing involved.
2. Never travel alone and only hitch a ride in the rural towns (el campo) with Nicaraguan friends. NEVER hitch a ride in a big city such as Managua (that just spells trouble and robbery).
3. Apparently the sign for hitching a ride is universal…stick out a thumb. Also, the word for hitching a ride is simply “ride”…yo necesito un ride (I need a ride).
4. Wait for the truck to slow (it probably won’t stop completely) start a swift jog along the side of the car and hop in with about 20 to 30 other individuals (if the front seat of the truck is unoccupied, occupy that seat immediately for a slightly more comfortable ride). However, if thigh, calf and quad muscles are feeling a bit flabby and a workout is needed then I recommend standing in the back of the flatbed. This will allow for an optimum workout…equivalent to doing a wall-sit for approximately 1 hour, 300 double lunges with calf lifts or jump roping for approximately 30 minutes straight.
5. To signal to the driver that people have reached their final destination and need to disembark, simply bang the top of the vehicle several times very loudly. Ideally, the driver will slow vehicle for a safe dismount.

**Safety Tip: If a person happens to stumble, fall or trip while disembarking from the truck, immediately tuck in head and all appendages…if carrying chickens, food or bags, drop them immediately and go into a roll…I haven’t tried this method…nor have I witnessed it implemented…but I feel it might come in handy to prevent permanent bodily damage. I call it the “tuck and roll” or the “Darn it, I’m falling off the back of a flatbed truck…again” move.

“A crab on the beach”
Several of us watched a Nicaraguan arrange this crab with a french-fry and beer in hand. He placed him on a log at the beach and then just stood back to look at his creation. I still am unsure why he did it, but about 2 hours later (the crab still remained) and we decided to take a picture.

Have you ever been squished into a large yellow school bus that is over occupied 10 folds, (suggested capacity 65 people; actual capacity 150-200 people)? Usually on public transportation in the U.S. there is a yellow or white line on the floor in the front of the bus that reads “do not cross this line.” It is a safety precaution, and God help the person that crosses the line, because the bus driver will harangue that unfortunate individual for the remainder of their bus ride; thus, evoking feelings of shame and ignorance. Yes, I have tried crossing this “golden” line in the U.S. and I was lectured and given the “evil eye” by the bus driver and fellow passengers. Therefore, I speak from experience and past shame. In Nicaragua, that rule does not apply nor does it exist. Although, the line and the phrase “do not cross this line” still remain painted on the bus floor…oh sweet irony. People cross the line and hang on for dear life outside the door. Meanwhile, I am stuck in between animals, babies, children, and adults somewhere in the middle of the bus…listening to Billy Joel’s “Piano Man”…unable to wipe the sweat from my face (having it slowly drip into my eyes and burn) all because I cannot move my arms or legs (and this is not an exaggeration…it is an everyday experience). And I am so thankful to finally reach my stop that I feel like kissing the dirt!

A day at the beach. Sometimes it is nice to cool off at el mar ...the ocean. (Deenah and Me)

I have been in oscura (pitch black) for the past 12 days (no lights, candles…nada). Why? Well, the problem isn’t lack of electricity, because my neighbors have the luz, television and music all running (at the same time…simply mocking me). The problem is faulty wiring. Hopefully, it will be fixed within the next week. Meanwhile, I cook in the dark, exercise in the dark, and hangout in the dark by myself (so sad). Last night, I was fumbling around helplessly reaching for random objects and made the mistake of putting Worcestershire sauce (instead of soy sauce) into my Asian Fusion dish…whoops…I still ate it though because I had no other choice!

This is a picture of me with ½ of the class (the other ½ was at a marching band competition). There are normally 50 kids in this class. My counterpart is wearing pink and her name is Amanda.

I played a rousing game of musical chairs with my students this past Friday (and volleyball during recess). I didn’t win but I did “bust a move,” which had the kids laughing!

Now back to the title of this blog…Ghostbusters. First, I would like to conjure up some memories: I recall reading R.L. Stine’s Goosebumps series (just last year in fact…joking… when I was in elementary school). The books detailed a ghost story or monster story always with an unfortunate ending for the protagonist (sorry to divulge the ending for those who have yet to read this intriguing and suspenseful series). While Goosebumps only details the bloodcurdling side of ghosts, Ghostbusters shows an assortment of Ghost personalities. For example, humans possessed by ghosts, dogs possessed by ghosts, and ghosts made out of slime. For those who have not seen these movies, I suggest reserving copies via Netflix and having a movie marathon to watch a priceless piece of Americana unfold. The Ghostbuster’s sidekick, Slime, is a helpful ghost who assists the team by answering the telephone and as his name suggests sliming unwitting evildoers. Ghosts can also be helpful for everyday household tasks, just look at Casper the friendly Ghost who can cook, clean, and levitate off of the floor. In Nicaragua there are also ghosts, but these ghost’s do not possess the same qualities as the ghosts described above. Most often the ghosts are associated with Dios (god) and el Diablo (the devil). In fact, I listened to about 3 hours worth of ghost encounters yesterday night. I will quickly recap the stories, leaving out many important details essential to character and plot development, nevertheless while encapsulating the gist of the theme:

Story 1: Man encounters ghost at 4am in the backyard. Ghost has large eyes of fire and is most likely the devil. Man is supposed to be picking up food from his neighbor, however due to the ghost encounter runs back into the house frightened. Later, the neighbor inquires about the food and man explains strange encounter. All is forgiven.

Story 2: Ghost whispers a name into a man’s ear 3 times in a row. Man opens his eyes and sees nothing.

Story 3: Apparition appears in front of a man and then disappears.

Story 4: Ghost touches the leg of a sleeping man; man opens his eyes and sees nothing.

Story 5: A dog has taken the form of the devil and follows the man around the block before disappearing.

Story 6: Ghost gives power to a man to heal his sick child instantly.

Story 7: Ghost rides around on a horse. The only catch is the ghost has no head (sound familiar…Sleepy Hallow)!

Story 8: Man who has one very large foot and one very small foot has incredible difficulty walking upright. Ghost heals the man’s unusually large left foot. The man walks without a wobble!

When it rains it pours! This picture was taken 1 week before the Hurricane hit Nicaragua. Typically it rains everyday (it is the rainy season) and it is a strong, chilly rain.

This is me at a Nicaraguan open market. This is where I buy my vegetables and meat.

Nicaraguans tend to be very animated people using a lot of hand or facial gestures to communicate various things: cardinal directions, confusion, heights of humans, and heights of animals. For example, in the U.S. when giving directions a person might point their finger towards the direction they are referring. In Nicaragua, a person giving directions “pushes out” their lips in a kissing motion towards the direction they are indicating. Another facial gesture is used when a Nicaraguan needs to demonstrate confusion. They will scrunch their nose. In the U.S. we might shrug our shoulders. The biggest cultural gesture difference that I am still having trouble adjusting to is: the “come over here I need to talk to you” hand gesture. Let me explain, in the U.S. if someone sees one of their friends across the street they might wave and gesture for the friend to come over. In which case the common gesture is to motion a hand in the direction that the other person must come…the hand motion is towards the body (Refer to Exhibit A). In Nicaragua it’s the opposite or what I call the “shoo away” motion (Refer to Exhibit B). That is correct, the people here “shoo” others away when they in fact want the person to come closer. Clearly I call this the “shoo away” motion because in the U.S. when a person does not want someone to come closer they simply shoo them away with their hand. This slight difference of hand motions makes me look like a total idiot, because my first reaction is to walk further away. Therefore, I start backing away from the person that is “shooing” me. However, about 5 seconds later I remember that I’m in Nicaragua, and of course that gesture means to come closer. Therefore, I double back to meet the person. Yet, my U.S. influence makes me think twice about this reaction (because it just feels strange to walk toward someone “shooing”). Yet again the “shooing” motion makes me back off a second time before I FINALLY realize that the person is calling me closer. The result is a very strange back and forth; back and forth dance motion…that makes me appear like I’m going into convulsions. But it’s ok because I’m a gringa!

The tree, the dog, and the rooster (Oh ya, and the mouse that lives in my house)

My roof... there are 2 types of roofs in Nicaragua, a tile roof like this one or a zinc roof (very very hot). The tile roof is so cool that I am able to remain inside my house during the hottest part of the day.

I am sad to report that the “gripe” has struck again. Current score Gripe: 3 Brie: 0. No worries though because Nicaragua has taught me that nothing beats gripe like a boiling bowl of soup at noon and HOT water all day long (no cold or chilled water allowed)!

The title of this blog is a bit misleading because the tale I am about to tell bares no resemblance to one of Aesop´s Fables. Unfortunately, there will me no “moral of the story” and in truth, the story itself has no resolution (as of yet). Let me set the scene: Across the street from my ranchita there is a small house that occupies a half acre of land. The owners have a small “farm” that consists of pigs, roosters, chickens dogs and maybe a goat (I have heard the call of the goat but have yet to confirm the goats existence visually). In front of the house there is a very large tree with a thick trunk. Tied to this tree, on a 6 foot long chain, is a very spunky, rambunctious and vocal dog. Everyday at 6am the dog awakes and begins to bark. Meanwhile, the rooster begins to crow. Now comes the fun part; the owner chains up the rooster about 1 foot from the dog. The rooster is just out of reach of the dog, but he is close enough to mock the dog with his crowing. Therefore, the dog barks and throws itself awkwardly toward the rooster, the rooster continues to crow every 10 seconds, and the dog never gets any closer to catching the rooster. This scene has been occurring day in and day out since I arrived at my site. I am tempted to go across the street one night around 11pm, when everyone’s asleep, and set the dog and rooster free. For now, I will contain myself but the crowing and yelping are starting to get to me!

Here is a picture of the tree (far left), the dog (center) and the rooster (far right).

There is a small mouse that now occupies my house (I promise this is the only rhyme I will ever use in any of my blogs…unless, I turn into a rapper and then I might include some of my song lyrics and backup beats). Basically, the mouse lives outside for most of the day, but then at night I will see it out of the corner of my eye running along the wall in my living room. I am tempted to get a cat, and would consider this option if I weren’t so allergic. Which is worse, runny nose and eyes with skin irritations or a mouse? I have also considered buying mouse traps; however, I don’t like the idea of having to remove the traps after I have captured the mouse. So for now I have a pet, of sorts.

An orchestra of vendor voices can be heard throughout the day weaving up and down every street in the neighborhood. They sell a variety of products from meat, to produce, to household products. The tune goes something like this:

“Espejos me amor” (“Mirrors my love”)

“Yuka, enselada” (Yuca and salad)

“2 avocadoes for the price of 1”

“Naranjas para fresco, piñas para fresco” (“Oranges and pineapple for juice”)

“Fresh cheese, cheese”

“Aquacate, Aquacate, Aquacate” (“avocados, avocados, avocados”)

“Fish, chicken and beef…lower prices for today only”

“Tacos, Taaacoooosss”

“DVDS, CDs, New Movies just released”

“Crema, leche” (“cream and milk”)

“Dulce, Bon Bons, Dulce” (Candy)

Why ever leave the house when everything one could possibly need is being sold at the front doorstep! I have yet to buy meat products, or pirated DVDs from the vendors. However, I do enjoy the avocado special 2 for the price of 1. I also enjoy yuca, a plant root that tastes like a sweet dense potato, which Nicaraguans just love. There are always deals to be had especially on the weekends!!

I recently made quite the expensive purchase; I bought a genuine Burberry tote for $1. Of course I am joking, although not about buying a tote (which in fact is just a giant plastic bag with a zipper on top) but it is not a Burberry tote nor was it marketed as such (the colors and the pattern simply remind me of this popular brand). The tote is very Nica**, as everyone seems to carry one on the bus and in the market place. The totes range in colors and themes. During Nicaraguan Fall Fashion Week, the “Winnie the Pooh Bear” tote and the “I love New York” tote were showcased and flew off the vendors shelves immediately. Now it is near impossible to find either one of these popular themes…but I will keep looking…I sense some awesome Christmas presents for people back home! The tote is great for stuffing all sorts of stuff into such as live chickens, rice, beans, assorted groceries, wood scrapes, yards and yards of rope (anything and everything…skies the limit). I have only put groceries in my bag (no live animals…yet) but I feel a sense of belonging and pride as I cram my bag full of stuff and throw it on the bus, just like all of the Nicas. How great it is to belong…plus I figure it makes me less of target for theft, because who in their right mind would go after a cheap looking plastic bag…case and point, an expensive looking backpack (mochila or bolsa) sticks out like a sour thumb.

**The term Nica simply means Nicaraguan. It is not a derogatory term and just as Nicaraguans call me a gringa, I call them Nicas.

My tote:

In my never ending attempt to assimilate I have done quite a bit of observing. Through these observations I have noticed some interesting cultural practices:

1) Some Nica men have grown out just 1 pinky nail to extreme lengths, while keeping the rest of their nails neatly manicured. I have inquired into this cultural difference and have only been told that the long nail comes in handy. Essentially it functions like a flathead screwdriver. I have yet to capture a picture of this “pinky flathead” because the logistics involved in this photograph are complicated. But if I ever find a willing hand model I will post the picture ASAP!

2) Many people also have gold teeth (or no teeth at all). This is due to the fact that the diet is high in sugar and people do not brush their teeth. However, it is also a fashion statement to have gold teeth. I was also told by another individual that having gold teeth is “cool and very attractive.” Therefore, I am getting my two front teeth capped in gold to help with the assimilation process.

Another use for the Swiss Army multi-tool (which I never leave home without): I finally got my new wash basin installed. Some chavalos came over to my house dug up some dirt, chopped up some cement and finally connected the water pipes. Everything was going great until the water turned back on around 3pm. The chavalos had left and they forgot to put an on/off knob on the top of the water pipe. Therefore, there was no way for me to easily turn off the water, and unfortunately the water was turned to the “on” position. Of course, it was raining and water was gushing out of my wash basin. The yard started to flood and I went into a momentary panic…HOW DO I TURN THIS THING OFF??? Then I remembered my multi-tool. With cat like speed and agility, I ran into my house, dug through my backpack and found my Swiss Army multi-tool…then I had to find the correct tool (Yikes…50 different options…so difficult to pull out each tool…not sure what I am looking for…out of breath from running into my house so quickly). I just started pulling out every tucked in Swiss tool: mini-scissors, pokey thing, mini-knife, bigger version of mini-knife, bottle opener, cork screw...and about 44 more mini-tools that I don’t know the names of or their purpose. Finally, I found a wrench and I was able to shut off the waterworks display in my backyard!! The yard resembled a lake, but the water was finally off and my multi-tool saved the day. I never thought I would use my multi-tool but low and behold I used it…and it was awesome.

This is my new wash basin (where I do my laundry, wash my dishes, wash my hands and get water). Don´t worry I bleach it a lot to keep everything germ free and clean!