Dylan and Lauren's Nicaraguan Adventure

THANK YOU!

2008-01-18T07:12:00.002-06:00

“Gracias por todo.” (Thank you for everything)

“Te quiero mucho.” (I love you a lot)

With those words I got into the taxi last Thursday, leaving not only the kids but also a part of my heart on their street corner in Managua.

Over the last 3.5 months I’ve been blessed to spend time with a group of kids who every day work at a busy intersection downtown, washing windshields and running between stopped cars begging for coins. I had the pleasure of eating lunch with the group, which grew from 3 to 15, every day at nearby fast-food restaurants. We bonded over greasy chicken, coloring books, a play area, and a digital camera. The pure and vibrant love the kids possess transcends the language barrier and I quickly fell in love with them. Despite being forced to mature too rapidly by working on the streets, they have miraculously maintained a remarkable amount of the beauty and innocence found in childhood.

While our lunch dates offered them a brief respite from working on the streets, I knew that they were merely a Band-Aid solution. Seeking to provide more long-term relief, we came up with the idea for a sponsorship program through which the kids could re-enroll in school.

To date, 13 kids have been registered and, starting in a few weeks, will spend their time in class rather than on the street. We have also started providing monthly food allowances for each family involved in the program, giving the parents further incentive to keep their kids in school. In addition, we’ve hired a Nicaraguan man, who speaks both English and Spanish, to run the program now that I’m back in the USA.

I’m excited to tell you that we’re currently in the process of establishing the program as an official non-profit organization. We really believe that this program can thrive. Once we figure out the arrangements for developing the non-profit we will commence fund-raising efforts. I’ll surely keep you updated as things progress, hopefully soon.

“Te quiero mucho.” “Gracias por todo.”

I spoke these words to the kids last Thursday and, with the same authenticity, offer them to you now. I have been so honored by the incredible support I’ve received throughout this adventure. I honestly feel that, although I am the one who was physically present in Nicaragua, you, as my family and closest friends, are the ones responsible for what we’ve been able to accomplish. Without your prayers, encouragement, thoughts, and interest I am certain that I would not have been strong enough to overcome the challenges I faced. I truly mean it when I say that ‘we’ did this.

My experience in Nicaragua provides yet another example of how God doesn’t call the equipped, but instead chooses to equip the called. I left home only knowing that I was supposed to spend some time in Managua. Through various closed doors, many of which I unsuccessfully tried to pry open, God led me to meet these kids. Somehow he used an introverted kid who doesn’t speak much Spanish nor have much patience with kids to lay the foundations for breaking this cycle of poverty.

In addition to working on this sponsorship program, I’m now applying to graduate school for journalism and have started an internship with Baltimore magazine. I’m not sure if journalism is the exact path I want to follow right now, but I know that I enjoy writing so we’ll see if anything comes of this.

I will always be grateful to you and to God for allowing me this experience. I know that I received many more blessings than I could have possibly bestowed. Although my time as a resident of Nicaragua has come to an end, I believe that my involvement in these kids’ lives has truly just started.

With Much Love,
Dylan

Our Final Party

2008-01-15T12:15:00.000-06:00

It’s a bit odd for me to write this blog at my kitchen table in Baltimore, dressed in sweat pants and a long-sleeved shirt. I am still trying to get used to being cold again. While the weather, food, and ubiquitous presence of English have all taken awhile to readjust to, I’ve found that the hardest part about being in Baltimore is the fact that I am apart from the kids.

My last day was one that I will always treasure. It exemplifies my adventures in Nicaragua, capturing the essence of my experience within the time-frame of a day.

The day’s excitement began when, despite my efforts to flag them down, not one but two buses drove by me at the bus stop. Just some typical fun with Nicaraguan transportation. I found a cab, though, and thus arrived at the street corner earlier than usual.

The kids were waiting for me in their clean, new clothes, toting presents they excitedly gave me. Much like the small teddy bears and pink lipstick I received days before, I could picture the kids looking around their houses for things that they valued, thinking they would be perfect gifts. This time I received several large teddy bears and numerous pictures and letters. The kids also had stuffed animals for me to take to Nefret, my mom, and Emily. All of the stuffed animals were worn and dirty; obviously the product of years of affection and usage. I was so honored to receive such meaningful presents. The kids gave out of their poverty, giving some of their most treasured toys.

We had a delightful time at our party at the Fun House. All said there were 26 people there, including 19 kids. The kids managed to sit down long enough to eat their chicken nuggets and fries and draw a few pictures. The calm lasted for about 20 minutes, after which the allure of the games in the Nicaraguan Chuck-E-Cheese-esque place took over. Usually we pay for each kid to play two games. This time, though, we purchased an hour of unlimited play for each one. When Carlos told the kids of this development they freaked out. I’ve never seen them so excited.

The kids played for an hour non-stop. They laughed and smiled just acted like kids. It was really a great way to end our time together. My goal for the party was to show the kids just how much I care about them and how special they are. I hope that they felt that.

After the party I, carrying a large plastic bag with all of my gifts, walked with the kids back to their corner. We spent about 15 minutes exchanging phone numbers, hugging, and saying goodbye. The kids got me a taxi and chased after it, waving and smiling, as we drove away.

Our final time together was really special. I will always have mental images of those kids smiling and running around. I can still feel their little arms hugging my legs. Their love was so evident, as it was throughout our entire time together. I’m so thankful for the relationships we established.

I’ll post my final letter within the next few days. Thanks for reading.

Pictures

2008-01-15T08:48:00.000-06:00

The last batch of pictures is up!

http://flickr.com/photos/dwnicaragua/

Brad and Lauren in the News

2008-01-13T07:49:00.000-06:00

Hello! I am working on a final blog, but in the meantime check out this article on Brad and Lauren.

http://www.loudountimes.com/news/2008/jan/05/two-leesburg-residents-work-children-nicaragua/

Emily's Blog

2008-01-10T10:35:00.000-06:00

I was only in Nicaragua for 6 full days, but I feel like I really had a chance to get to know the country and the people that Dylan has grown to love. I feel so blessed that now I can share in this experience with him.

One thing is for sure, in Nicaragua there are no rules and no signs. I had an idea of what to expect from all that Dylan told me about his home away from home, but I really could never have prepared myself for this amazing experience.

My first experience of Nicaragua was from the backseat of a taxi. A taxi equipped with a “siren” for a horn. And yes the siren horn was used whenever, not exactly when necessary. The only transportation more exciting was the elaborately decorated school buses.

The market was an overwhelming sight of people and goods. It wouldn’t have been necessary to buy anything from the shops, walking around and observing was exciting enough for me. Although I did make some purchases (who can pass up a hammock for $11?).

San Juan del Sur was beautiful. The trip to and from the beach was of course an interesting experience, but it was worth it. I loved eating dinner directly on the beach and listening to the waves. And who doesn’t love spaghetti for lunch when you are deserted on the beach for the afternoon? It was so amazing to experience the beautiful sunset, clear blue water, and cool evening breeze.

And then there are the kids…

Walking around to the street corner, and watching them rush over to us from 50 yards away yelling “DILAN” at the top of their lungs, is an image that will always stay with me. I was immediately received with hugs and kisses. Even after I explained to them that I could not speak Spanish very well, they asked questions and wanted to know all about me. I just could not get over their openness and loving hearts.

As soon as we got to lunch they wanted to see my camera. They loved taking pictures of us, in all kinds of combinations and poses, most of me and the chicken mascot painted on the wall. We played games (games that I did not understand or know the rules of, and yet always won) and danced. Dylan and I were married, twice. The girls all giggled as they did my hair and prepared me for the event. Their smiles and laughter were such a treat. They showered me with their gifts, generosity, and love.

When it came time for me to leave, I wanted to listen to their pleas for me to stay. It was so hard to say goodbye, and we had only just met a few days before. It was so easy to fall in love with each and every one of them. They are all so unique and special, and so happy and loving. I feel so fortunate that I was able to meet and spend some time with them. I don’t think I will be able to explain to them the impact they have made on my life through Dylan and through this trip. And for that I am truly grateful.

My time in Nicaragua was amazing. I made a promise to the kids that I would come back and visit soon. I know that I will keep that promise. I am looking forward to the next time I get to pile into a colorful school bus, dangerously maneuver through the streets, and see the smiling faces of my new friends.

I miss Fried Chicken Already

2008-01-09T21:57:00.000-06:00

Last night, around 8pm, I was sitting at my kitchen table reading some articles on the New Hampshire primaries and Roger Clemens contemplating whether to spend an hour or so cleaning, packing, or reading my book. (See what happens when Emily is not home to talk with me?) Up until this point I figured that the highlight of the evening would surely be my successful venture into making corn-flake chicken.

At this exciting point in my evening two men came two the door and started speaking Spanish. After introductions and brief formalities I soon became lost and said, “No hablo mucho espanol,” (I don’t speak much Spanish). One of the men excitedly responded, in English, “I’m an American!” They told me they just moved in across the street and were having trouble getting internet. So, invited them in and told them how I got my internet. They asked what I’m doing here and I had a chance to explain my work with the kids a bit; to which they were very receptive.

Their story is quite interesting. One man, Carlos, is a massage therapist who works with professional athletes. He asked if I was a baseball fan and told me that his nephew, Jesse, is a writer for mlb.com and is also staying across the street. I then explained my interest in both journalism and sports. Carlos then brought Jesse over and the three of us chatted while they used my internet.

It turns out they are living across the street with one of Carlos’ clients, Vicente Padilla, a pitcher for the Texas Rangers. So, yes, one of my new neighbors is a professional baseball player. After talking here for a bit they asked me if I wanted to meet Vicente. Of course I did, so we walked over to his house and I had a chance to say hi.

I really enjoyed talking with Jesse and Carlos. Jesse provided me with some helpful advice on succeeding in journalism and told me some interesting stories about his work. They were both supportive of my work here and told me they would introduce me to Vicente’s assistant, who runs his foundation, before I leave on Friday. They said there is a chance Vicente might want to help out, since he is Nicaraguan, too.

Only in Nicaragua does this kind of stuff seem to happen. I can’t picture any circumstances at home in which I could go from sitting by myself in my house to meeting a professional baseball player in a night.

Today was pretty much a continuation of yesterday in terms of emotion; both good and bad, gifts, good times, lots of hugs, and a photo shoot. I met with Carlos before lunch to teach him how to use the digital camera I am leaving with him. We also separated the school supplies we bought last week at the market by family before heading out to meet everyone and pass them out.

Our lunch was very wonderful. The kids, realizing it was our last trip to Pollo Campero, were even more energetic than usual. I would guess that I received upwards of 150 hugs today and only slightly fewer requests for the biggest chicken breast or more soda. There was some drama between the two moms who are twins, with one initially refusing to come, but after awhile everybody calmed down and enjoyed themselves. The kids gave me gifts for Nefret and Emily. I think it’s so cute how the girls put so much time into making beautiful pictures and letters for them.

During lunch one of the mothers told me that the older kids can’t use the notebooks we bought for them. I saw her point, as the notebooks were small and seemed more appropriate for younger kids. So, after lunch I bought 24 High School Musical notebooks for the older kids. I told the kids I would bring other notebooks tomorrow but decided to surprise them this afternoon. By the reception the notebooks received one would think I gave them each a new bike or something.

After handing out the notebooks I walked to the bus stop along with 5 of the kids. We were joking and hanging out when I heard someone ask, in English, “Hey man, how’ve you been?” I turned to see a man who I met a long time ago, maybe in early November, across the street in front of Metrocentro. At the time he introduced himself to me as an activist trying to collect money to stop the eviction of people from an HIV/AIDS patient house. In November I thought that he was a bit odd, and was further warned when the kids told me not to talk with him. Today I got the impression that he might be a drug addict by the way he carried himself and spoke.

Within seconds of his arrival the kids told me, loud enough for him to hear, that he was a robber and further implored me to stop talking with him. The man, understandably, didn’t like what the kids had to say and they started exchanging verbal barbs. I didn’t know what to say so I just repeated, “No!” at an ever-increasing volume. The man started to walk away but turned back and kicked Ninoska, who was leading the insult attack. She quickly picked up a small rock and threw it at him as he tried to run away. Not really thinking, just reacting, I, by this point screaming, “NO!” ran in between the man and the kids trying to diffuse the situation.

The man then picked up a rock and cocked his arm to throw it at Ninoska. I knew that he wouldn’t throw the rock at me so I stayed between the two of them while walking towards the man. He threw the rock, thankfully missing Ninoska. She then fired another one back at him, also missing. By this point I reached him and grabbed his shoulders, yelling at him to drop the rock. He did so and, uttering some not-so-nice words, turned and left.

One girl, Winny, was crying when I got back to the group of kids. I think she, like me, was pretty shaken up by the situation. I never really felt in danger, as the scrap virtually consisted of a pebble-throwing exhibition, but the fact that this guy would mess with the kids bothered me. I’m sorry that this event was our final memory of our day together, but I think that the good times we had earlier in the day were special enough to outweigh the bad.

Tomorrow we’re throwing a HUGE bash at the Fun House. It will undoubtedly be ridiculous. I can’t wait to tell you all about it.

An Emotional Day

2008-01-08T20:21:00.000-06:00

I took Emily to the airport and waited in line with her to check in, only departing when I was forced to at security. On our way to the airport she enjoyed a very ‘Nicaraguan’ send-off, complete with walking past a huge pile of burning trash, ridiculous taxi driving, and sharing the road with various animals and animal-drawn carts. We had a truly delightful time together this past week. Although it was sad to see her go I know that I’ll see her again in a few days so I am coping alright.

With my time with the kids coming to an end very shortly our lunches and afternoons are becoming more emotional by the day. I continue to be amazed with how affectionate the kids are in light of the emotional and physical beating they receive every day. I marvel how they can maintain so much pure joy in the midst of their lives.

I know that I have expressed the feeling before, but I have to reiterate how thankful I am to have this Nica experience. While it might be counterintuitive, I have found myself more on the receiving end of blessings than the giving. The kids’ selfless generosity is perhaps the aspect of this trip I will remember the most fondly.

When I arrived today Stephanie, an adorable 5-year old girl, was excitedly waiting with a gift for me. I have received countless pictures and letters as well as a few sunglasses and bracelets over the last couple months, and each gift was obviously heartfelt and special. The teddy bear that Stephanie, after running up to greet me, gave me was yet another example of how giving these families are. They are so real with their feelings that they can’t help but express them, and they are so legitimately thankful that I am consistently overwhelmed by the depth of those expressions. I’m not sure how many toys Stephanie has, but since she spends her days begging for money on the street I’m pretty confident that the bear she gave me was probably quite special to her.

Our time at Pollo Campero resembled a photo shoot more than lunch. The digital camera has long been a hit, but its popularity has increased over the last few days. Today they managed to take 164 pictures in the 2.5 hours I was with them. I think I have multiple pictures of every possible combination of people present. They don’t usually smile for pictures here so the majority of the pictures consist of me smiling and everyone else looking miserable. An interesting cultural difference.

During the course of lunch and hanging out with them afterwards I received several more letters and drawings. I could tell that some of the letters were obviously the fruits of much labor. I am so honored that these kids would spend so much time writing me letters telling me how much they love me and am thankful for everything. Some of them write me multiple letters a week. What a blessing.

One boy, Ever, bought me a bag of juice and some chocolate from one of the guys who walks between cars at their stoplight. I just am so blown away that the kids spend their own money (they are allowed to keep some of the coins they get from begging) on a gringo.

At the end of our lunch Ninoska, the oldest girl (15), gave me a Winny the Pooh gift bag with some of the most meaningful gifts I’ve ever received. The first thing I noticed was a intricately colored drawing of me and a flower. She had spent all of her time prior to giving the gift to me – probably a little over an hour – at a corner table making this picture and the letter which followed. She wrote how much she loves me and how appreciative she is for our friendship and everything that I’ve done for her. I was already so touched by her artwork and letter but the rest of the gift brought me close to tears.

I then pulled out a teddy bear with the words ‘te amo’ (I love you) written on its chest. As I took it out of the bag Ninoska proudly told me that she bought it for me with her own money. Again, at this point I was already extremely humbled and honored. Still, there was more to come.

I think it’s refreshing how real the kids’ desire to give me gifts is. Although they can’t really buy me much they are not deterred. Instead, they turn to often giving items that obviously mean a lot to them. I imagine they are thinking that if they really like the item then we will, too. For example, the kids gave Emily a ring and a bracelet clip literally off of their own hands yesterday.

Also in the bag were two pictures – one for Nefret and one for me. Nefret’s picture is of Didiert, one of the babies, dressed in donated clothes that Nefret brought. Ninoska gave me a family portrait which, judging from Ninoska’s size in the picture, appears to be about 6 years old. I know that her family can’t have many photos, so to receive a family portrait was really quite powerful.

The last item in Ninoska’s gift bag was an unopened bottle of pink nail polish. I can’t even imagine how important it was to her. I can picture her sitting at her house thinking of what she had to give me, determining that she since she valued the nail polish I would appreciate it also. I immediately thought of the Bible story of the widow’s offering, when Jesus called the very poor woman’s heartfelt tithe much more valuable than the not-very-meaningful but much larger donations by the wealthy. Jesus describes the widow’s offering as, “out of her poverty, put in everything—all she had to live on,” and I think the same applies for Ninoska’s.

I had to pay my phone bill after we ate and Ninoska, Aura, and Ever accompanied me to the bank to do so. They waited outside while I went inside and quickly took care of business. Afterwards we sat on the curb in front of the bank just talking and joking around. About 5 minutes after I sat down with them a security guard came over and, in English, told me that we had to leave. I thought his request was reasonable, since I probably wouldn’t want three kids joking around in front of my bank, either. We started to leave.

I’m not proud of what happened next but I want to share it because it happened and I think you have a right to know. As we were walking away the guard, with a smirk, told me, “You can stay, it’s just that the kids have to leave.” I was immediately infuriated. I was okay with him asking us to leave the bank, even if the reason was he didn’t want street kids sitting out front. I understand that. What got to me was he felt the need to, although we were already walking away, throw in his verbal jab. I then, probably against my better judgment and already knowing the answer, asked him why I could stay and the kids couldn’t. Again through a sly smile he told me, “No reason.”

“What’s the reason?” I asked. He responded with another smirk and a shrug. All of me, again, against my better judgment, wanted to stay and tell this guy how I really felt. I didn’t want to subject the kids to this episode though. I have been known to run my mouth a little too much sometimes and couldn’t stop myself from saying, “That’s messed up,” as we left. I am glad the kids walked with me to the bus stop and stayed with me until it came because I think I would have gone back to the bank if they hadn’t.

Again, I’m not proud with how I handled the situation. I know that I let my anger take control. I just wanted to give you all a more detailed picture of life here, not just a recap of the good stories.

As we sat at the bus stop Ninoska asked me if I had bus money. Although I said yes she pressed 2.5 cordobas (about 15 cents) into my hand, insisting I that I take it. I tried for the approximately 10 minutes we waited for the bus to give the money back, but to no avail. At one point I put on the most serious face I could and beseeched her to take the money. The kids one-upped me. The other people waiting for the bus must have been quite confused/amused to see three kids on their knees wailing and begging me to keep the money. I couldn’t do anything to get her to take it back. So, in addition to all of the gifts I’d received earlier in the day, I also enjoyed a free bus ride home. The kids are ridiculous.

Today was an emotional day. I just keep thinking about the kids’ gifts and how meaningful they are. I know that tomorrow and Thursday are going to be hard, too. I keep reminding myself that the only reason saying goodbye to the kids is so hard is that we have such powerful relationships, which is a good thing.

Much love to you all. Thank you so much for reading and for supporting me. None of this would be possible without you.

I love the Beach

2008-01-07T09:31:00.000-06:00

What a weekend!

Having braved lunch with the kids on Thursday Emily proved her mettle by coming back the next day for more. Thursday’s lunch was a nice, pleasant introduction for her; the kids were friendly, fun, and fairly well-behaved. I was a little worried that it was too easy and that the kids would make up for Thursday’s semi-angelic behavior on Friday.

I think the kids must really like Emily because they were wonderful again on Friday. Like Thursday, some kids I’ve never seen before came. At this point I don’t have the heart to limit the group size, since I am leaving in a week, and allow everyone to come. Some of the moms have been frequently coming, which I’m sure has helped bring about the positive change in their deportment.

The kids, especially the girls, are borderline-obsessed with Emily. They repeatedly tell me how beautiful she is and like playing with her hair. Blondes are not so common here so I understand their interest. She has been so wonderful with them. They like playing a game with her in which they all stand in a circle and take turns jumping up and squatting down. It looks…really fun.

The funniest part of our lunch on Friday was the fake wedding ceremony the kids put on for us. They love to, even before Emily arrived, give me a hard time about not being married. I think that by my age it’s fairly common to be married or at least be living with someone. So, one of them came up with the idea that marrying us at Pollo Campero would be appropriate. The kids quickly set up the “church,” which consisted of two lines of tiny plastic chairs and an altar consisting of a plastic kids table. They were so excited and ran around franticly while giggling to set things up. The girls hurriedly fixed Emily’s hair and pretended to dress me up. Evert, an 11-year old boy preformed the ceremony. I’m not sure exactly what he was saying but he seemed quite confident in his abilities as pastor. Afterwards the kids screamed, ran up, and hugged us. It was a precious moment because they were so obviously excited and having so much fun.

After lunch we took a cab to the Huembes bus terminal where we caught a bus to Rivas, followed by a taxi to San Juan del Sur, one of Nicaragua’s most beautiful beach towns. We had an enjoyable dinner at one of the beachfront restaurants and afterwards walked along the beach for a bit.

Saturday’s beach experience was quite typical of Nicaragua. We took a water taxi, which our hotel owner told us about, to a beach about 40 minutes away. Along the ride we passed several beautiful, inviting beaches, always slightly disappointed when the boat continued to drive past. When we finally turned into a small harbor and saw the awaiting beach we realized the trip was worthwhile. Pristine, white sand lay ready for us and the beach – maybe 400 yards long – only had about 20 other people on it. We stretched out our towels and basked in the sun.

About an hour later we both became hungry and went searching for the snack shacks the hotel owner informed us about. About 100 yards from the water was a concrete wall with several private property signs, stretching almost the entire length of the beach. We presumed the food would be at the far end of the beach, where the wall ended, so we walked over there. We were met by something that looked like a swamp and a security guard. I asked where we could get food and he told me to “go to the exit and look for the white house.” So, we walked back down the beach, towards the other end, looking for something that resembled an exit. We found a path and, deciding it was our best bet, walked down. We soon saw a white house but were confused since the house looked like, well, a house. There was nothing that would lead us to believe it was a restaurant. Having eliminated the house as a location from which we could possibly acquire food we took a right at another path and walked until we found another beach. We did find a snack shack there but quickly discovered it was closed.

We determined the initial path we were on to be the most promising so we backtracked until we found it again. After we passed the white house we saw a couple of other gringos sitting around a table on a patio behind another house appearing to be eating something. We looked for a sign of some sort but were unable to come up with any further evidence of this being a restaurant. We were both so hungry by this point – about 2pm – that I walked up and asked the gringos if they were indeed eating at a restaurant. They said yes so Emily and I took a seat at another table.

A man came over after a few minutes and told us that they only item they have is spaghetti. We could, however, choose a topping of meat, chicken, or vegetables. So, after waiting about 30 minutes more, we ate huge plates of pretty disgusting spaghetti on someone’s patio before heading back to the beach. Only in Nicaragua.

The rest of our time at San Juan del Sur was pretty much perfect. We had some great meals, beach time, and walks throughout the town. We even met up with Lauren’s sister and brother-in-law – Jane and Jon – for lunch on Sunday. They just moved to Nica last week to attend Spanish school for 10 weeks and we loved hearing about their experiences. I’m impressed with how quickly they’ve adapted to the craziness that is present in most aspects of Nica life; in their case in the form of no hot water, roosters who don’t know what time it is, a parrot, and the difficulties of adjusting to a completely different diet. They are wonderful and we had so much fun talking with them.

Right now we are waiting for the real-estate agent and our landlady to arrive to inspect the apartment for damages. I question their impending arrival as they are already 30 minutes late. So, we’ll see if they show up. We’re going to lunch with the kids and then to the market to do some shopping.

I hope you all had great weekends. I can’t wait to see you soon. I still don’t really believe that I will be home in 4 days. Thanks again for reading this. When I initially started this I thought that my readers would be my parents and maybe Emily. I’ve since been overwhelmed by the support and feedback I’ve received and am so honored that you continue to show an interest in my adventures here.

Much love,

Wait, Emily's in Nicaragua?

2008-01-04T08:43:00.000-06:00

Although she arrived two days ago it’s still hard for me to believe that Emily is really here. For the last 3+ months her presence in Nicaragua has been relegated to my computer screen via Skype videochats (we are dorks). Previously mutually exclusive, two of the most important aspects of my life, Emily and Nicaragua, finally met.

Emily arrived Wednesday afternoon and we enjoyed a wonderful seafood dinner that evening. Having woken up at 4am she understandably went to bed early.

Thursday was her true initiation to the Nica life. She faced a daunting first challenge – riding a bus to the market – but overcame it with ease. I surprised myself by not getting us lost in the market and we had fun experiencing the lively bustling atmosphere. We caught a bus home and rested for about an hour before heading out to meet the kids for lunch.

Since the kids and their moms aren’t working now they arrived, again wearing clean clothes that you all donated, for our lunch date. Two little girls I’d never seen before – cousins of some of the regulars – came along as well as two of the moms and the grandmother.

Not surprisingly, the kids loved Emily. They kept telling me how beautiful she is, to which I responded that this was not new knowledge for me. They had such a great time playing games with her, taking pictures with her, and playing with her hair. With the exception of my dad’s I don’t think they’ve ever seen hair so blond before.

Emily brought two big duffle bags full of donated clothes and Thursday morning we put together packages for each family. After we all ate we gave the clothes out to each mother and watched them excitedly try them on. The kids and their moms were so thankful.

Thursday evening we went to dinner with my good friends Keren and Esmir. I’m glad Emily got a chance to meet them. We went to an organic restaurant, which felt like it should be located in downtown Baltimore instead of Managua. Nicaraguans are not as health-conscious as Americans (yet overweight Nicaraguans are quite rare) so I was quite surprised to find a whole restaurant dedicated to serving healthy, organic food. The food was delicious and the company was great. Both Keren and Esmir are friendly and full of personality and I’m so happy that Emily could spend time with them.

Here’s one typical Nica story for you: I talked to Esmir earlier in the day on Thursday and, not knowing the name of the restaurant, could only tell him that Keren picked the “organic restaurant” for our dinner. He told me that he’d be there so I assumed he knew where it was. I called Esmir when we arrived at the restaurant to see where he was. He told me that he was at home but was leaving just then and would be there in 5 minutes. Just before I was about to hang up I asked him if he knew where the restaurant is. “What’s it called? Where is it?” He asked. This response prompted me to wonder where he was planning on going if I didn’t ask that question. Nica…

It’s about 8:30am and Emily just came downstairs. I’m very impressed with her ability to sleep in. Although we stayed up very late watching “American Gangster” I still couldn’t make it past 6:45am. Oh well. Two cups of coffee today…

Today Emily and I are going to San Juan del Sur – the beach that Lauren and I visited in November – after lunch with the kids. I’m really excited. I’m not sure if they have internet at our hotel but if they do I will try to post. Otherwise I don’t think I’ll be able to put anything up until Sunday night or Monday morning.

I will be on a plane home in one week. I don’t think my departure will be real until I actually leave. I’ve had a lot of time to mentally prepare for it but I am sure it will still feel sudden and abrupt. I know that Nica will always be a big part of my life though, so this really won’t be goodbye.

No Work Today

2008-01-01T19:26:00.001-06:00

When I arrived at the street corner I found 6 of the kids playing, not washing cars. The rest of the kids, along with their mothers, another aunt, and some cousins I’d never met, arrived about 10 minutes later. It turns out they don’t usually work in January since “business is slow.” So, they came in their nice clothes just to have lunch. I recognized so many of the clothes as those we just handed out during our Christmas party; the ones you all donated. I was thrilled that they all made the trip just to eat with me, but even more happy that they aren’t going to work in the near future.

A couple of quick stories/observations:

1 – Carlos relayed a conversation he had with Sonia to me in which she said, “I am so glad that we don’t have to work now,” (meaning in January). Although the kids often tell me they like their work I find this hard to believe. Most of the time they are semi-adults, hardened by their time on the streets, but it seems like when we have lunch they let loose and are just kids again. I’m so glad they can run around and act crazy for a few hours a day. I think that Sonia unwound enough today to reveal her true feelings to Carlos.

2 – I thought the moms’ presence would ensure good behavior from the kids, but I was sorely wrong. I think the larger-than-usual group just got them more revved up. There were a couple fights and some tears today. The moms have no reservations about spanking the kids. A few of the brawlers soon became bawlers after their moms found out what happened.

3 – I would like to tell you that the families are always 100% content with what we’re able to do for them and never ask for more, but this isn’t always true. I will say that, without fail, they, especially the kids, thank us profusely. Today though, some of the moms were complaining to Carlos that the 500 Cordobas (approx. $28) each family will receive each month as part of the sponsorship program is not enough. One mom often pulls me aside when Carlos is not around and asks for money. I never say yes since I want to treat all of the families equally. I am writing this not to complain about their ingratitude. I know they are beyond grateful. I just want to give you all fuller picture of life here. I do not fault them at all. If I were in their position I would probably ask for more, too.

4 – It rained most of the day, including when we left Pollo Campero. Since they weren’t working they were all ready to catch a bus home. It’s a holiday though, so the buses don’t run very frequently. (I found this out when I sat at the station waiting and waiting this morning. Just like I did on Christmas. Eventually I had to take a taxi. I’ve heard the definition of insanity is doing the same thing twice and expecting different results…) So, we all crowded under the covered bus stop and waited. After about 20 minutes with no bus they asked if I could pay for a taxi to take just the moms and their small babies home, thus allowing the babies to stay dry. I agreed and Carlos flagged one down. He was unable to find any drivers willing to take the moms and babies to their neighborhood, explaining that drivers all felt the area was too dangerous to travel into.

5 – I was so touched when the kids, when we were saying goodbye, said, “I love you,” “Thank you,” and “God bless you;” all in English. They had asked Carlos during lunch and were so proud and excited to tell me such special phrases in English. Carlos, who teaches English part-time at a local college, has a vision of holding English lessons for the kids. We agreed that once the sponsorship program gets up and running we’ll reevaluate our situation and hopefully we will have enough money to hire him to teach.

Okay, that’s enough for now. My girlfriend Emily is arriving tomorrow! I’m so excited for her to meet the kids and get a taste of the Nica life.

Happy New Year!

2007-12-31T18:50:00.000-06:00

I was thinking today of the how important repeated trips to Nica have been for me. My first trip I was virtually just an observer; paralyzed first by the unfamiliarity of my circumstances and later by the anger, sadness, and confusion inherent with exposure to the Nica life. In the same way a doctor doesn’t let the sight of blood hinder his work I’ve found that I can now see past the tangible manifestations of poverty and attempt to love the people who are trapped by them. This has been a gradual process, but now having been here six times I find myself in a position to roll up my sleeves and start working instead of just taking it all in.

Ben left early this morning. I just got an email from him saying that he arrived safely at home. I’m so glad he could visit and get a taste of life down here. The kids loved him and asked about him repeatedly today.

Carlos met us for lunch today and we were surprised to find only seven kids waiting to join us. I don’t quite understand the process of determining which kids come to work every day, but it seems like most days at least one stays home. Although I miss their company at lunch I am not too upset when they get a day off from working.

We had a quiet, peaceful lunch. Carlos interviewed the kids, getting information I’ll need when putting together packets for their sponsorship. After lunch Carlos and I went to the market to pick up notebooks, pencils, erasers, and pencil sharpeners. It’s amazing that about $18 bought ample supplies for 12 kids. I plan on giving them their stuff later this week.

Tonight is New Year’s Eve and I am looking forward to a relaxing evening. Most Nicaraguans, like Americans, go out tonight but I am excited about cleaning the house a little bit, watching a movie, and maybe reading. Any doubt that I am really an old man has now been eliminated. I hope that you all have a safe, fun New Year’s Eve!

Weekend with Ben

2007-12-30T18:26:00.000-06:00

Friday Ben and I headed to Vera Cruz, the town where Casa Bernabe, the orphanage at which we stayed during spring break, is located. Ben was looking forward to reconnecting with some kids he grew close to in March and I am always glad to the kids again. When we arrived at the orphanage we were told that all except for 3 kids were on vacation until Wednesday. We were disappointed but still wanted to walk around the orphanage grounds and visit the few kids who remained.

Walking through Casa Bernabe brought back many wonderful memories. I realized how much time I’ve been able to spend there over the last two years. We had a great time just walking around the farm talking about our experiences there. We didn’t see any kids until we got to the houses where we stayed last spring.

It turns out that my friend Giovanni, who I’ve spent considerable time with during each of my trips, was one of the kids who didn’t go on vacation. I was so pleasantly surprised to see him, especially considering the long odds that he would be one of the three left. We hung out for awhile and he joined us as we walked around.

After visiting the orphanage we headed into the town of Vera Cruz. We were thrilled to run into our friend Irvin, who drives our bus during the spring break trips, on the street. We hung out in Vera Cruz for about an hour before catching a bus back to Managua.

Friday night we went to the movies. We sat in the ‘VIP Club Section,’ meaning we watched the movie in recliners while someone brought us popcorn and refreshments. It was great, especially for $5.50!

Saturday we spent the day in Granada. We braved the hot sun and walked around for a few hours, checking out the churches and street vendors. I’m glad that Ben has seen a few other places than Managua. I think he’s gotten a good taste of the variety of life here in Nicaragua.

Our church outing was highlighted by unexpectedly seeing Jonathan, a kid from Casa whom Ben befriended in March. Ben was disappointed he didn’t see him when we visited Casa on Friday, so seeing him at church was a nice treat.

We spent the afternoon napping and watching football; it was lovely. We’re about to head out for a nice seafood dinner.

Hope you all had a great weekend!

Our Christmas Party

2007-12-28T23:45:00.000-06:00

Do you know that feeling you get when you are obviously part of something much bigger than yourself? Well, we certainly experienced that last night.

Ben and I started out the day by picking up some soda and ice cream for the party with the kids. We were getting ready to head out for lunch with the kids when Ninoska called. She told us not to come for lunch, explaining they had to work during that time to make up for leaving early for our party. This news was quite sad and reminded us that, in order to be kids yesterday evening, they had to be adults for the day.

I’m not exaggerating when I say that the kids and their moms called me at least 8 times yesterday to confirm the time and place we would come to pick them up for the party. Being so used to the ‘yes is a yes and a no is a no’ society in the US, I’m still getting used to Nicaraguan’s unfamiliarity with setting firm plans.

Ben and I were nervous heading over to meet them. Would they be able to come? Would they even be there? How would we get the 5-20 people in taxis to my house? We didn’t exactly have the luxury of having printed out Google maps directions to give to taxi drivers. Would my apartment still be standing afterwards?

As soon as the kids spotted us they ran up to us, even more excited and energetic than usual. We immediately noticed they were all bathed and wearing clean clothes, many of which I recognized as those previously donated by you all. Their hair was combed and gelled. Even the moms and the grandma were wearing clean clothes. A few of the kids were still in their ‘work’ clothes, begging for money when we arrived. When they saw us they ran off and changed into their clean clothes, obviously overflowing with excitement. It was so precious to see how joyous the kids were just to be wearing their special, clean, new clothes. I think they would have been happy just to hang out on the street corner in their outfits.

With help from Ben and Carlos we managed to squeeze 20 of us into 3 cabs, caravanning to the apartment. Sitting upfront I was overjoyed to look into the rear-view mirror and see their smiling faces.

Ben and I decided it would be best to keep the kids outside as much as possible, thus giving them room to run around and also limiting the amount of damage to the apartment. We herded the kids into the pool area and then watched the inevitable happen when a group of 13 kids encounter a pool. Within minutes the boys were stripped down to their underwear and splashing around the water. The girls soon jumped in wearing my t-shirts, shorts and, when I ran out, boxers. The kids were out-of-control crazy, but in the best way possible. They were SO excited and having SO much fun that they couldn’t help but be loud, run around like madmen, and generally cause trouble.

I planned on ordering a bunch of pizza, thinking that the kids would welcome a change from the fried chicken and fries we have every day. Upon mentioning this idea I soon found out the extent of the kids’ love for the pollo frito, as they passionately rejected my initiative, screaming, “Pollo! Pollo!” So, Carlos made the call to Tip-Top and about 45 minutes later the moto-delivery man brought unbridled joy in the form of greasy comfort food.

The mothers assisted greatly in maintaining order while Ben and I dished out the food. Unlike our daily lunch outings, the kids peacefully and quietly stayed in line and waited for their chicken. I’m not sure how they can eat, and actually enjoy, fried chicken every day, but I guess when you don’t know what or when the next meal is going to be you take what you can get.

After dinner the kids ran around and dipped their feet in the pool. Thankfully they didn’t get all the way back in the water. They did, however, find repeated trips into the house to ‘go to the bathroom’ quite fun. I admit that I have a long way to go before I am ready for fatherhood but even I eventually picked up on their ploy.

One of the highlights of the evening was celebrating the grandmother’s birthday. When the kids told us it was her birthday Ben had the great idea of running to the store to pick up a gift. He came back with a beautiful flower arrangement, giving it to her as all of the kids sang ‘Happy Birthday’ to her. It looked like she was about to cry.

Carlos was kind enough to call some taxis to take everyone home. It took about 10 minutes to say goodbye, as we had to peel kids, moms, and a grandmother off us. As they were leaving we gave each kid a bag of clothes, books, candy, and toys; all donated by you. Since they were leaving just then they didn’t open the gifts until they got home. Ninoska called us about 30 minutes later, thanking us profusely for the gifts. She especially enjoyed the Spanish-English Bible.

Here is a story which I think speaks volumes about the character of these kids: After everyone left we noticed a couple of coins we had left out on the table from before the party. Knowing their situation, how strong must the temptation to take them must have been? Every kid walked by that table multiple times, often without us around, yet they didn’t do it. I was especially moved when I thought back how upset one girl, Aura, was when she lost 6 Cords (30 cents) while changing. How hard do you think it was for her to walk by that money?

The whole evening was better than I could have ever expected it to be. Sure, the party brought forth the expected frustrations and difficulties inherent with hosting 13 street kids for a pool party, but they are nothing that a mop and a bucket of soap can’t clean up.

I know as soon as the taxis pulled out of my neighborhood last night the kids returned to their unthinkably difficult lives. I realize that they merely played the part of Cinderella for the night and that they were back to washing car windshields this morning. I think that last night, though, is a memory that they will have forever. For a night they were not street kids that get laughed at, cursed at, and looked down upon every day. They were just kids; splashing around in the pool, eating fried chicken, and going in groups of girls to the bathroom to do their hair.

Being a part of the party last night was such an honor and a privilege. I am so thankful that God decided to involve me in his work. The party was yet another way that God showed me the blessings that come with service. I thought I would be giving of myself last night by hosting the kids. I thought that I would be the one who gave the blessing to the kids. Ever since the kids left last night I have been overwhelmed with gratitude. I am so thankful to have these kids in my life, and especially for what we were able to do last night. I was immensely blessed by the kids last night, and can only say “thank you” to them and God for allowing it to happen.

Back in Nica - Ben's Perspective

2007-12-28T08:44:00.000-06:00

So when I was getting ready for this trip, I thought to myself, alright, this will be a calm, relaxing week. I’ll get to play with some street kids, hang out by the pool, maybe go to the market, but all in all, it’ll be chill. How wrong I was. I think I’ve done more in the past two days that I have all semester. First of all, getting down here was a miracle in and of itself, as my tickets weren’t registered with TACA and my connections were all 20 minutes apart. Once I got down here though, I soon realized that it would be an action packed five days.

After dropping off my bags, we went to lunch with the kids. I can’t even begin to explain what kind of experience that was. They completely blew me away in so many ways. I expected hardened young kids that lived a life of poverty and in need. But these kids were so incredibly joyous. I don’t mean happy to see us, even though they were, but I mean they had JOY inside of them. Sure, there were some moments where I had to go to my happy place and count to ten to avoid snapping, but that’s how kids are supposed to be. Their gracious attitude and love for Dyl completely floored me. Even the 80 year old grandmother on the street corner was elated to see him.

We went from lunch to the market, and holy cow, it was so awesome. I love those kinds of environments. I guess I’ve watched too much food network and travel channel. When we got home I crashed, and that nap felt so good!

Yesterday we went to Masaya, a town about an hour away from Managua and explored around there. It was much more chill than the capital. I had a blast getting lost in the city and just wandering around for a while.

When we came home last night, we got ready for the party. We went and picked up the kids and brought them back to Dyl’s in four taxis. The expressions on their faces when we pulled up and they saw the pool and balloons really made me think about their life and their situation. I can only imagine that this was the first time these kids have seen a pool or this kind of neighborhood. We played, they swam, and we ate more pollo frito. I’m sure Dyl will cover more of the details… but all in all it was such a mind-blowing experience.

Even though I was so exhausted mentally from the party, I had this unexplainable satisfaction deep inside. When I’m down here and I see the love these people have for each other and for complete strangers, I’m just reminded how powerful God’s love for us is. I feel as if I always thought of this kind of trip as me serving the Lord and sharing His love with others, but the more I do these kind of things, the more I realize that these experiences are instead His loving me, His people serving me in ways I could never imagine. As each day goes by down here, I’m reminded of the ever-present pain and suffering in this world, but almost instantly I see God’s love shining through the dirt and smoke to provide light, strength and hope for all His people.

Ben's First Day

2007-12-27T08:22:00.000-06:00

Pictures from my parents’ visit and the last few weeks with the kids are posted:

http://www.flickr.com/photos/dwnicaragua/

Ben arrived yesterday morning, having left Dulles at 2:45am and made two connections in Guatemala and El Salvador, impressively energetic and ready for a Nicaraguan adventure. We came home for a bit before meeting the kids for lunch.

I hold myself solely responsible for jinxing the calm that presided over the first 20 or so minutes of lunch by remarking to Ben how peaceful and well-behaved the kids were being. Shortly following my regrettable comment, and Brad’s surprise arrival, I think the kids gathered together and decided to have a contest of who could be the craziest.

I will give them credit for their success in this endeavor; they are quite talented! J Even though I complain sometimes about their behavior I know that we all, including myself, had a wonderful time. They were just so happy and excited by the food, friends, and visitors that they couldn’t help but be a little out of control. It’s a good problem to have, I think. I will say, though, that in light of this experience I do not foresee myself becoming a father anytime in the near future. I can barely take care of myself, much less a completely dependent child!

After lunch we caught a couple buses to the market to change some money and do some shopping. Ben and I had fun walking through the madness that is Huembes. Even though I’ve been there a bunch of times I still thoroughly enjoy the trip.

When we arrived home we found that our internet had been suspended due to lack of payment. I admit that I did not pay the bill, but this is only because I never received one! So, Ben and I walked to the cable company’s office to rectify the situation. I’m so thankful he was here to sort things out as I do not have close to the vocabulary necessary to do so.

Last night we had dinner at the little restaurant near our house. We enjoyed some delicious gallo pinto and fried plantains, in addition to chicken and steak. It was great.

I’m not quite sure what we’re getting ourselves into tonight. I invited the kids over to my house for a Christmas party. It will be madness, but lots of fun, I’m sure.

Christmas and Ben's Arrival

2007-12-26T07:27:00.000-06:00

Ninoska called me while I was walking to the bus stop yesterday, telling me that no one would be at the street corner because their aunt was in the hospital. I thought it would be a good idea to stop by just to make sure no one was there, though. So, I walked to the bus stop, noticing how quiet the streets were. Keren told us on Monday that the country is essentially shut down on Christmas day, explaining that most people go to the beach.

It turns out she was right. I realized that, unlike normally, I was the only person waiting at the stop or the stop across the street. Usually the buses come ever 5-10 minutes. After 20 minutes without seeing one I inferred that the buses weren’t running. I walked back home, stopping to talk with Erwin for about 25 minutes.

My parents brought their computer to my aunt's house for the family Christmas party and I had the opportunity to Skype with them for a few minutes. I enjoyed seeing everyone and feeling like I was part of the party. Technology is pretty amazing.

Brad and I agreed the other day that we needed to “Americanize” our Christmas so he and Esmir came over to throw the football around yesterday afternoon. While we were just playing catch a group of three Nicaraguan teenagers who were walking by challenged us to a game. Brad asked if they knew the rules and they responded, “mas o menos,” meaning ‘more or less.’

I think that I would describe their familiarity with football as being more on the ‘less’ side. Concepts such as the line of scrimmage, only one forward pass per down, and downs themselves were novel to our opponents. The game quickly evolved into a free-flowing affair that resembled handball more than football. We all had a great time though. I think the kids enjoying playing a new game with the “gringos” and we had fun trying to explain our country’s favorite sport.

I’m about to leave to go meet my friend Ben at the airport. He’ll be here until the morning of the 31^st. It will be great to see him and I’m looking forward to benefiting from his fluency in Spanish! I know the kids will love him, too.

Merry Christmas!

2007-12-25T10:46:00.001-06:00

Nicaraguans celebrate Christmas on the 24^th, so while you all are busy exchanging presents, eating delicious meals, and spending time with family today my holiday celebrations are complete.

I wasn’t sure if the kids would be on the corner yesterday when I left the house. I was hoping that I would not find them there, since that would imply they were celebrating their holiday at home or elsewhere. However, they were all out there like any other day.

We had a pretty good lunch; the kids were excited that Brad, Kiki, and her brother surprised us. All of these fun visitors raised the kids’ energy level several notches, though. There was some drama between Aura, the girl who just got signed up in the program on Friday, and Sonia. Brad told me that he saw them all-out brawling the other day and it seems like the animosity still remains.

Our good friend Keren invited Brad and me to join her family for a traditional Nicaraguan Christmas dinner last night. Brad wanted to go visit the kids in the orphanage where we go for spring break, which is down the street from Keren’s house, beforehand so we left my house around 3pm. When we got there we realized there was a group of Americans with the kids already so, not wanting to intrude, we instead spent a few hours walking around the town of Vera Cruz. Brad knows a good amount of people there so we stopped by three houses and chatted with some of his friends.

Nicaraguans, in general, seem to be much more hospitable than Americans. Upon arriving, unannounced, we were immediately offered chairs, drinks, and even a look at what must be one of the most treasured possessions – the family photo album. Brad and I couldn’t get over how Nicaraguans usually do not smile for pictures. There were countless pictures from someone’s wedding, and the people looked absolutely miserable in every one. Just a cultural difference, I guess. One family even talked Brad and me into taking turns riding their horse around their property. I will say that this was a new way to celebrate Christmas for me.

Keren’s mom cooked us a delicious dinner. It was a true feast. Along with Keren’s parents we dined with six of their closest friends and some boys from the orphanage. Although I couldn’t really understand the conversation it was nice to be included in such a special gathering.

Not surprisingly, Christmas Eve is a HUGE night for fireworks here. Somehow we managed to stay awake until midnight, when we, along with I think every other person in Managua, set them off. I felt like I was in a war zone.

Clearly, Christmas is celebrated very differently here than at home. Although Nicaragua is a very strong and open Catholic country the religious aspect of Christmas seems to be minimal in importance. Also, while (fake) Christmas trees and Christmas lights are fairly common, gift exchanging doesn’t seem to be too common. Due to the weather, fireworks, and pace of the evening, last night felt much more like the Fourth of July than Christmas.

Although I miss my family and our Christmas traditions greatly I am glad that I could experience a Nicaraguan Christmas. I am so blessed to have such great friends here who could make the evening so special.

Weekend Recap

2007-12-23T21:32:00.001-06:00

Friday was pretty exciting. I spent the morning researching the necessary steps to starting a non-profit, even creating some by-laws. Carlos joined me and the kids for lunch. I counted the kids as they were sitting and eating; somehow 13 of them were there. It’s getting harder and harder to tell kids they can’t come as I get to know more of them. Also, I’m leaving so soon that I want to include as many as I can. Carlos is quite helpful in keeping the kids in line, though.

During lunch Carlos and I decided that we’d take Aura, a girl who recently entered the program, to the market to buy her supplies that afternoon. Through Carlos I found out that Aura was left by her mother on her grandmother’s doorstep when she was one month old. Her grandmother, who has to be at least 70 years old, has raised her ever since. Aura also has a bother, Eber, who was abandoned by his family a few years ago. I wasn’t able to figure out if they are biological brother and sister. They are very close, either way. Upon hearing about her brother, Carlos and I agreed that we had to include him in the program, too.

So, after lunch we took a trip to the market, with their grandmother, to buy supplies. We got backpacks, shoes, uniforms, and socks. Both Eber and Aura were so thankful. They are both reserved, preferring to sit back and watch the action at lunch while the rest of the kids run around like animals. I’ve enjoyed spending time with them and am glad that they’ll be able to get back into school.

Friday evening was fairly uneventful. I went grocery shopping and then for a run. Now that I’m not 22 anymore I have no qualms about going to sleep at 10pm on Friday nights. J

Saturday’s highlight was definitely having lunch with Angel, our real estate agent and friend. He speaks great English and loves talking about current events and Nicaraguan life. He painted a fairly discouraging picture of the situation. I appreciated his perspective and insight.

This afternoon I went to Catarina, a small tourist spot about 40 minutes from Managua, with my friend Erwin. Erwin is a security guard for a building that I pass by on my way to and from the bus stop, and we’ve become friends over the course of our daily chats for the last few months. Earlier this week he asked me if I wanted to hang out today. When he suggested Catarina, explaining it offered a beautiful view, a nice breeze, Nicaraguan music, and good seafood, I agreed to go this afternoon.

One of Erwin’s friends took us to Catarina in his taxi. Once we arrived I realized that I’d been there once before on my trip here last August. The main attraction is the overlook into a lake-filled crater. It really is beautiful. We took some pictures, walked around, and had some iced tea and shrimp soup at a restaurant overlooking the view. Erwin speaks very quickly and is hard to understand, so our conversations mostly consist of him speaking and me alternating between saying, “What?’, “Yes,” and “No.” He is a really nice guy, though, and we had a good time.

When I got back I went on a run and then cooked some delicious Hawaiian pizza using some leftover ham and the pineapple I bought for 60 cents(!) yesterday. The pineapple tasted extra sweet because I chopped it up with my machete.

Tomorrow, Christmas Eve, is the big day to celebrate here. I’m going to our friend Keren’s house for dinner and fireworks. It should be fun. Sonia called me tonight to tell me that the kids aren’t going to be at the street corner tomorrow. I am going to go though, just in case she was only talking about her family. I will be happy if they are not there, though, they deserve a day off for Christmas.

Dad's Observations

2007-12-22T10:09:00.000-06:00

Here's what my father, Gary, had to say about the trip:

I have been asked by several people, “How was the trip?” I still can’t come up with any sort of an answer that justifies the experience. Maybe that’s because I still can’t answer it for myself.

Dylan gave a better blow-by-blow than I can so I’ll take this opportunity to recall a few observations.

Ø I remember the look on Jonathan’s face (maybe 2 or 3 years old at the orphanage that Lauren worked in) as I held him. It was the first of many curious “stares” as it seems many in Nicaragua had no idea what to make of me. After a few minutes he smiled and began unbuttoning my shirt as if to see if I really was that color all over.

Ø I am amazed at the courage of Lauren, Dylan, & their friend from VA, Brad, to come down here and do what they doing. I don’t know any of my friends at this age that would have even considered such a journey. I know I wouldn’t have.

Ø I was overwhelmed by the basic human instinct of children to just be held.

Ø 90 degrees in December, tropical foliage, I can’t understand one word anyone is saying, I’m a foot taller than everyone I see and there’s Christmas decorations – look at the signpost up ahead – I’ve entered The Twilight Zone.

Ø I still laugh at Mikeal’s reaction to us asking if they sold human body parts at the notorious Oriental Market in Managua. (“Oh no way!”) One of the kids said you could buy a kidney there.

Ø The taxi drivers here have a system of morse code that uses car horns.

Ø I saw pictures of “The Dump” from Dylan’s previous trips. I watched a video on YouTube of it & now I have driven through it and seen it with my own eyes and it is still inconceivable to me that hundreds of people live and work in this place; much less that it contains 2 schools and kids grow up there.

Ø As much of the “good” garbage is picked over and used or sold, a lot of the rest is randomly burned wherever people want throughout the city. This leaves a fairly constant smell of smoke wherever you go in Managua.

Ø You can hear fireworks every night in most of the city. Bless these folks – they are celebrating something.

Ø There are only 2 musical rhythms in this country. Both of them sound very similar after 4 days.

Ø I liked the food here in Nicaragua better than in Italy. It must be me.

Ø The public bus system is primary highly decorated (trust me when I say “highly decorated” – many colors, steamers, colored lights inside) old USA school buses. I am convinced that The Partridge Family runs the mass transit department here.

Ø It’s universal across the world – I have seen it now in so many countries – kids just love Marianne from the second they see her. I used to tease her that it was because they were the same size. But I know it’s because most kids are very good judges of character and can see her heart. “Dylan’s kids” had her surrounded within seconds. Really; no exaggeration. I am fortunate that I get some of the halo effect (I guess they figure the big guy can’t be too bad if he’s with her) and they let me play too.

Ø I have been amazed for years at Dylan’s ability to be patient, listen and react to immense challenges. What I saw and what he is doing in Nicaragua has taken that respect and wonder to a level that is indescribable.

Ø I never felt from the kids, “I wish I had what they have.” I find myself, in hindsight, not only freshly thankful for what God has blessed me with, but also wishing I had some of what they have – the resilience, courage, appreciation and ability to find joy in the simplest things. I will work on that.

Mom's Guest Blog

2007-12-21T16:37:00.000-06:00

Here's a special treat: Not only do you all get a break from reading my writing for a day, but instead you can enjoy my mom's reflections of her trip here last week. I'll post my dad's tomorrow. Enjoy!

Gary and I just spent 4 days visiting Dylan in Managua. Our goal was to experience what life is like for him there. Due to his great planning and thoughtfulness that is exactly what happened – and more!

During those days we: went to a baseball game in the capital’s stadium, visited Lauren’s orphanage and met her sweet children, met Dylan’s kids and their mothers and enjoyed spending time with them at Managua’s versions of Chuck E. Cheese and Chic-Fil-A, toured Managua with taxi driver and friend, Mikael (Nicaragua’s version of Borat), met other friends Brad, Keren, and Esmir, shopped in a local market and grocery store, toured the dump and a music store, ate great food and didn’t eat not so great food and attended Dylan’s church. We definitely came away having seen, smelled, felt, heard, and tasted a bit of Nicaragua.

Just a few general observations first: Managuans are a hard working and scrappy people- even though their efforts are sometimes inefficient ways to get a job done. They make do with what they have.

They value children yet many of them roam the markets, streets and tourist places selling food, trinkets or washing windshields.

They love color and style and take pride in appearance yet there is litter everywhere.

They are a live-and-let-live culture and as Lauren said “There is always a party somewhere.” Despite some hard conditions, they are passionate and full of life.

So the memories of taste I will carry with me include: guava jelly on toast, fried banana chips, cold Victoria beer at the stadium, rice and beans, coke with no ice, rice and beans, a sizzling steak and protein bars.

I will remember the sounds of loud Latino music coming from taxis, store fronts, cars, buses, homes and street corners. The words “Bueno,” “Hey Gringo- do you want cashews?”, ”one dollar,” the rattle of the dilapidated cabs and buses, “Granadanadanada,” beep beep and honk honk. The whistling and the alarm clock birds, the excited chatter of the children I couldn’t understand, these children calling “Tia Lorena” and “Deelan”, and noisy parakeets at the grocery store.

Memory smells include: onions frying, trash burning, the coppery smell of children who are almost clean, fried chicken and French fries, monkey cages, air fresheners in taxis, the unfamiliar smells of the market.

The feel of tropical breezes blowing, wind whipping through my hair as we traveled along, a warm and tiny hand on my wrist as the owner begged for cordobas, the press of sweaty people on a bus, the tangle of many children’s hands in my hair as they explored its colors as well as my hearing aids, the intense sun and cooling breeze on my face simultaneously, and the arms of children wrapped around my neck, shoulders, and waist.

I pray that I will always keep the images, both good and hard, of this trip in my heart and mind as well. The lush tropical and bright colored foliage, the dirty and desperate faces of the very young and very old, cows and horses sharing a highway with cars and buses, women of all ages working in tall heels, everything sold in bags - milk, water, life possessions, food - people riding bicycles carrying floor lamps, countertops, or 2 other people, stray dogs, cows and people eating from trash piles, lovers enjoying ice cream and a smooch at the mini zoo, bright birds and houses, gleaming smiles, the dancing man at church, fireworks, Christmas trees everywhere, lots of jeans, people selling everything – really, Hello Kitty, signs and lots of barred doors and windows.

Thanks for taking the time to share this with me. It was a trip that has impacted me, hopefully forever. I left Nicaragua knowing some new things: That Dylan is capable of embracing a new environment and creating a balanced life there. That he has listened to and obeyed God and that God very much loves the Managuan people and is very present there.

Another day of visitors!

2007-12-20T16:55:00.000-06:00

Our first surprise guest was Brad, who was driving by on his motorcycle and stopped by to say hello to the kids. The kids were overjoyed to see him. In the 15 minutes we were at Pollo Campero before his arrival they probably asked me 10 times if he was coming. They gave him a rock-star entrance, chanting his name and swarming him as if they hadn’t seen him in years.

To add to the excitement, Kiki and her brother, Rob, who’s visiting for a week, showed up shortly thereafter. The kids, especially the girls, love Kiki. Rob, who doesn’t speak any Spanish, was a quick favorite after assuming the role of a horse, giving rides to multiple boys at a time on his back. I think they had a really good time today.

One sad note – recently (the last 2 weeks or so) one or two kids remain on the corner washing cars each day while the rest of the kids come to lunch. They rotate, which, I guess, is better than having the same kids miss lunch every day. My efforts to convince all of them to come are always in vain.

After lunch Brad gave me a ride to the market on the back of his motorcycle – what fun! Even though it’s only about a 10 minute trip and we didn’t crack 25 mph it was still quite enjoyable. I got a haircut and did some Christmas shopping. The guy who cuts my hair always insists on slicking it back with an obscene amount of gel, thus assuring that I look like an Italian mobster when I leave. I am pretty sure that my attempts at haggling were taken a little more seriously with my new look, though. Last time I went to the market, with my parents, I got hopelessly lost. I vowed not to allow this to happen today. I was successful, but found myself erring to the other extreme as I walked by the same vendors at least four times. Oh well.

The market is on the same bus line as my neighborhood so I was able to ride my favorite, ruta 117, all the way home. I again find myself sitting by the pool enjoying a nice breeze. I will really miss this place when I return home. God has been so generous to me throughout this experience. I’ve been so blessed to have found the kids, great friends, and a wonderful apartment. Even more, though, I am reminded every day of how loved and supported I am by family and friends. As if these things aren’t enough, I’ve also experienced the blessing that comes through service. I came here trying to figure out how God wanted me to serve and have found myself on the receiving end of so much love. Nicaragua is a wonderful place. I know I will always remain involved here.

Baby Steps

2007-12-19T17:22:00.001-06:00

The day started off on a “Nicaraguan” note. I watched two buses pass by my stop without halting. As these buses drove by I figured out why – they were already overflowing with people. I’ve been on some mighty crowded buses here so the fact that the bus driver considered his vehicle full is quite noteworthy. I managed to hop on the third bus, albeit by the slimmest of margins. The bus started to take off while I was still waiting for the person in front of me to board, so I was lucky to grab onto the bar and hop up as it was slowly gaining speed. This, too, was ridiculously crowded and I soon found that I couldn’t advance beyond the first step. Shortly thereafter the bus door proceeded to close, trapping my arm in the process. I wiggled it out but was worried that the previous two minutes would set the tone for the day. Thankfully they didn’t.

Brad and Carlos, the man we hired as the local director for the sponsorship program, joined us for lunch today. We had a great time. The kids love when Brad comes because he is so great about playing with them. They often tell me that he is more fun than I am, which I must agree is a true statement. He kept them entertained by sliding down the slide in the play area (I have no idea how he fit), playing high-five hand games with the girls, and allowing the kids to climb all over him. Now that I am old I can’t keep up with the kids like I once could. Brad was also a big hit because he took turns giving the kids rides on his motorcycle. Lunch was great. The kids had fun playing with Brad and talking with Carlos. He is also wonderful with the kids.

After lunch Carlos and I went to a local coffee shop to talk about the program. We worked out some financial details and discussed our vision for the future. I am beyond excited for this endeavor. I found out today that Carlos did translation work for World Vision for seven years and has an abundance of knowledge about its sponsorship program. We brainstormed some ideas for fundraising and spreading the word about what we are doing.

So, what’s the next step? We have to get the final 3 kids in this initial round signed up for school. Then, the fundraising begins. I plan on putting together a brochure with information and pictures sometime soon. Although all of the details need to be ironed out, it looks like it will cost around $28/month to sponsor a kid. I’ll surely put more information on this blog when it’s official.

Also, I am seriously considering starting a non-profit organization when I return to the States in a few weeks. This will help with fundraising, since I understand why people will likely have reservations about writing checks directly to me. Although it is overkill for the size of the program in its current incipient state, I think it would be prudent to lay the foundations for growth now while we’re still putting everything together. Again, I’ll post more when I can.

I am currently typing this blog while sitting poolside. The sun is setting and I’m enjoying a calm breeze and a temperature around 80. The wireless router I’m borrowing from my dad unbelievably transmits a great signal that reaches here. I hesitate in writing this, as everyone who might have felt a bit of sympathy for me for living in a developing country certainly just lost it, especially those in snowy/windy/cold Baltimore.

Thanks for reading this. I am so honored that you care enough to follow what we’ve been a part of down here. Moving to Nicaragua has really shown me how loved I am back home.

Lunch with Kiki

2007-12-18T17:57:00.000-06:00

My friend Kiki joined us for lunch today, much to the delight of the kids. I met Kiki, a Canadian who works for a microfinance company, on our language school trip to Mombacho volcano a month or so ago. We’ve been in contact and she wanted to come today to see what I do with the kids.

Interestingly enough, Kiki already knew some of the kids. Like me, she was approached by the kids outside of Metrocentro one day and, also like me, agreed to buy them fried chicken. She told me she has hung out with them twice already. The kids loved having her there and it was great to share what we’ve been able to do with getting them into school. She also speaks very good Spanish so I know the kids appreciated having someone there with whom they could actually hold conversations.

Four new kids came today. I have seen them around but never invited them before. In fact, I’ve even turned a few of the boys away before because I didn’t want to bring more than 11 at a time. Today, though, some of the regulars were missing so I asked the four other kids if they wanted to join us.

Tomorrow, Carlos, the man we hired to be the local director, is coming to lunch with us. I think it’s important that he spends some time with the kids while I’m still here, as it will ease the transition when I leave. After lunch we’ll get to talk about the business side of the program.

It’s hard for me to believe that I only have about a week of “normal” time left down here. My good friend Ben is visiting from Dec. 26-31 and my girlfriend Emily will be here from Jan. 2-8. I leave on Jan 11, so the end really is in sight. I have mixed feelings about leaving. More about that later – I still have a lot of time to enjoy here!

What a birthday!

2007-12-17T15:34:00.000-06:00

I arrived at the street corner to find the kids waiting with beautiful birthday cards and pictures. I saw the remnants of their craft-making efforts and could immediately tell how much work went into the cards. They then proceeded to sing “Happy Birthday” to me in English. It was incredible. The kids were so excited for my birthday, much more so than I was. I was so touched by their selfless gestures and enthusiasm.

We then proceeded to Pollo Campero. Some of the regulars – Carlos, Kevin, Ninoska, and Stephanie were there, but the kids from the two other families weren’t on the street. While I certainly missed their company, it worked out to be a blessing in disguise because their absence allowed some kids who I usually am forced to turn away, due to the number issue, a chance to come. I adore this girl Aura, who’s a fairly new addition to the corner, and was glad she could come. Two new kids – a boy and a girl – also joined us.

I was already feeling very loved, thanks to the cards and pictures, when we entered Pollo Campero. Our friend Keren and her mother were waiting there to surprise me with a birthday cake, making the afternoon even more special. I was so touched by Keren’s kindness. She spent the time and money to have a cake made, with my name on it, and even surprised me and the kids.

Ninoska’s mother also joined us today, which was lovely. I really appreciate her company. Even though we can’t communicate that well I can tell how much she loves her kids and how appreciative she is of us spending time with them. She was nice enough to give me a pair of sunglasses for a present, which was even more touching considering she already gave me a Che Guevara necklace last week.

We had a great time and, as a plus, the kids were extremely well behaved since their mom was there. The only negative part of the day is that I am now feeling the effects of eating the gigantic piece of cake Ninoska’s mother served me. J

Ninoska and I discussed the possibility of her coming to the US one day. I told her that it is hard, but not impossible, to obtain a visa. I think it would be great if she could come one day and I told her that she could possibly come for college. I encouraged her to study hard and do well in school if she was serious about this.

I am not sure what direction my continued involvement with Nicaragua will take. I know that I am committed to helping these kids enter, and stay in school, but in addition to that I am unclear. Perhaps my involvement will evolve into bringing kids to the US for visits or schooling, but only the future will tell.

Today truly was a wonderful day. Like so many times before, I was served and loved by kids who have so little. When I step back and think about today’s occurrences, I am so grateful for how loved I am here. As a person who, comparatively, has “everything,” to be loved and treated so well by Nicaraguan street kids is quite humbling and meaningful.

I’ve received many wonderful, thoughtful, and special birthday gifts throughout the years, but the wonderful party, cards, and pictures I received today are certainly some of the most memorable.

Some Reflections on a Bittersweet Weekend

2007-12-16T19:41:00.000-06:00

This past weekend has been one of great emotions. Having my parents visit was wonderful – I was thrilled to see them and give them a glimpse into Nicaraguan life. On the other hand, it was very difficult to say goodbye to Lauren. I am so happy for her to return home, but I know that I am going to miss her so much. My time here will certainly be different. She’s been such an incredible friend and encouragement to me throughout the last three months. I know that we will always be close in light of these shared experiences, though.

Thursday was a great day. We took a taxi to Lauren’s orphanage, although we had to get out and walk the last mile or so due to the multitude of police officers surrounding the neighborhood. President Ortega’s house is quite close to the orphanage and evidently something of importance was going down.

My parents and I loved the visit to Lauren’s orphanage. The kids are wonderful and obviously love Tia Lorena (Aunt Lauren) so much. I regret not visiting sooner, since I benefited immensely from meeting the kids and seeing the place. Now I can put faces and sights with all of the stories I’ve heard over the last few months.

After our visit we took a cab to the Huembes market to do some shopping. I managed to get us extremely lost in the bustling market, thus unintentionally giving my parents an extended tour of sections of the market I’d previously never set foot in. We had a good time though, and they picked up some gifts and coffee.

Thursday evening we threw a party for the street kids. We met the group – which had swelled to 17, 19 including two of the moms – on the corner and took them to the Fun House, an establishment quite similar to Chuck E. Cheese. I was looking forward to the party because both my parents and Lauren would be meeting the kids for the first time.

The party was wild and fun. I took great pleasure in watching my parents and Lauren interact with the kids. Watching two hugely important, but previously separate, facets of my life come together was quite enjoyable and meaningful. The kids had a great time eating chicken nuggets and running around playing the various games. My mom had the brilliant idea of bringing a Polaroid camera, meaning the kids were able to leave with pictures of themselves.

Friday we toured Managua with my friend Mikael, a translator/taxi driver. He first took us to La Chureca – the city dump – where hundreds of people work and live. My parents had seen pictures and heard me talk about this place and wanted to see it for themselves. Mikael drove us throughout the dump for about 30 minutes, giving us a chance to really experience the atrocious reality of the situation. It was terrible. Even though I’ve been there several times before watching a large group of people sift through trash heaps like ants on ant hills was awful.

After La Chureca we visited a music store and a small zoo. Along the way we had a chance to talk with Mikael, discussing Nicaraguan politics, history, and life. He is quite a character, so the conversation was very entertaining.

We met the kids for lunch after our tour on Friday. There was some drama concerning who was allowed to come. I figured this might happen since we took such a large group to our party the day before. I knew that I could take a large group on Friday, since my parents would be there to help keep order, but I would then be faced with the same dilemma on Monday. With this in mind I decided to just invite the same 10 kids. My previous attempts of implementing a rotation ended very badly, so I knew this wasn’t an option. I had a lot of trouble telling four kids they couldn’t come. It really was heartbreaking, but I think I need to keep the group from going completely out of control.

We had a good lunch – the kids were quite amused by my mom’s hearing aids and my dad’s white skin. My parents were wonderful with them – never showing any insecurities or hesitation despite the language barrier and culture shock. My mom brought some pictures of me from when I was younger to show the kids. Clearly they had a great time making fun of me.

Friday evening our friends Keren and Brad joined my parents, Lauren, and me for a nice dinner at an Italian restaurant. I’m glad my family could meet two of our best friends here and we could all share a special meal for Lauren’s last night in Managua. It was great.

Saturday I accompanied Lauren to the airport very early in the morning. Watching her leave was so sad! I know she’s going to enjoy spending time with family and friends though, so I am happy for her.

My parents and I then caught a bus to Granada where we enjoyed a nice lunch and spent the afternoon walking the streets and picking up some crafts from a few street vendors. I’m glad my parents were able to see a completely different side of Nicaragua in Granada. The Spanish colonial architecture was a welcomed change of scenery. Due to its much smaller size the feel of the town is quite different, too.

Saturday night we dined at a wonderful restaurant called La Plancha. In addition to the delicious steaks, I really just enjoyed my parents’ company. I’ve really missed them over the last 2+ months. I’m glad we could have a tasty, relaxing dinner to cap off their trip.

This morning I took my folks to church. We could only stay for the first hour, since we had to get to the airport, but they got to experience the festive atmosphere of Latin worship.

Although the departures of both Lauren and my parents ensured that this weekend would end on a down note, I take comfort in knowing that the wonderful times I had with both is the reason. Only because I enjoy both Lauren and my parents so much is this hard. So, in that light, it’s a good problem to have.

Ok, that’s enough for now. Thanks for reading this supersized blog. Something to look out for though - my parents will be submitting a guest blog entry sometime soon.

2007-12-14T21:05:00.000-06:00

Hi! Just wanted to let you know my parents and I are doing quite well. I'll write more when I get a chance, but please know that we're having a wonderful time.

Lauren leaves in the morning, and I am very sad. It's been so wonderful having such an amazing friend throughout this experience. Life in Nica will be quite different without her. I really feel like we have been teammates throughout this endeavor, and I know we will remain close forever in light of our times here together.

I'll write more soon - probably sunday after my parents leave. I hope you all are well!

love,
dylan

Parents and Pictures

2007-12-13T08:50:00.000-06:00

My parents arrived safely yesterday afternoon and enjoyed an evening of true Nicaraguan pleasures. We took a walk through our neighborhood, thus acquainting my parents with both our living situation and the intense Nicaraguan sun, checked into their hotel, and went grocery shopping. At dinner Lauren and I made sure to introduce them to Gallo Pinto (rice and beans) and fried plantains, which they seemed to like. Last night we attended a baseball game, which provided my parents with a sample of Nicaraguan culture. The festive atmosphere, interesting food, and inescapable poverty were all representative of life here.

This morning we plan on visiting Lauren's orphanage for a bit. Shockingly, I've never been, so I'm looking forward to putting sights and faces with the stories I hear about every day. Afterwards we might stop by the market and/or spend some time at the pool. This evening my parents, Lauren, and I are going to have a special party with the kids. It will surely be a good time.

I just posted a bunch of pictures from my time with the kids, including some from the Purisima celebration, the school 7 of the kids will be attending, and all of them with their new backpacks. Here's the link: http://www.flickr.com/photos/dwnicaragua/

I hope everyone is well. Stay warm and dry back in lovely Baltimore.

Love,
dw

A Look Back

2007-12-12T11:53:00.001-06:00

Here’s a more thorough account of yesterday’s occurrences:

Keren came to pick me up in a taxi, bringing along her family friend Carlos, the man she recommended to be the local director of the program. Carlos is a 59 year-old English teacher in a nearby private college, so immediately I was relieved to learn that we will be able to communicate directly, in English. He studied at the University of San Francisco in the late ‘60s and early ‘70s, where he learned English. He’s done translation work with Keren for various trips to the orphanage, so he also has experience working with underprivileged children. I had a chance to talk with him throughout the day, and he seems like a great guy who is very interested in what we are doing.

The day started off a bit trying as, when we arrived at the street corner, the moms informed us that all of the schools we planned on visiting were closed. We decided to visit the schools anyway, since it would be beneficial for Carlos to at least learn where they are. Since the three moms all wanted to send their kids to different schools, we planned on visiting three.

Surprisingly, the first school we visited was open. I was very impressed with the facility. A ring of classrooms in the shape of a U surround a large, clean open space for recreation. Karla wants to send her 3 kids there. It appeared much nicer than the second school we were planning on visiting – where Ninoska’s mom, Patricia, wanted to send her 4 kids – which I saw when I went to Ninoska’s house last month. Upon seeing this school, Patricia decided that she wanted to send her 4 kids there, too. We felt this was a great decision, since this school seemed to be much nicer and it would make Carlos’ job of checking in on the kids much easier.

So, we filled out some paperwork and paid the entrance fees and tuition for the first 2 months for the 7 kids. Patricia and one of Karla’s kids, Sonia, were there with us during this process. We had such fun watching them get so excited. It was a powerful moment when we signed all of the forms and paid the money – knowing that this sponsorship program was turning from an abstract idea into a reality.

Carlos had to leave to teach an English workshop, so we put off visiting the other school until next week. Fortunately, he is already familiar with it since it is in his neighborhood.

We then went to Metrocentro for lunch before taking 9 kids – in two taxis – to the market. I thought it was hard controlling the kids at Pollo Campero, which at least is an enclosed area and has a play zone, but the market proved far harder! The kids were SO excited – first by the taxi ride, then by the market.

We were able to buy uniforms, backpacks, shoes, and socks for all of the kids. It was a long, arduous process, but in the end all of the kids were well-supplied. The hardest part was picking out shoes for the girls. The boys were ready in less than 10 minutes. The girls took an hour and got kicked out of one store. I can say that some things – girls being picky about shoes – cross cultural boundaries!

The taxi ride back to the street corner was delightful. The kids were brimming with joy over their new goodies, and we were thrilled to get so much accomplished in one day.

Reflecting upon yesterday’s events, I am both humbled and overwhelmed with thanksgiving. I’m so thankful for all of the amazing support we’ve received while trying to get this program off of the ground. I’ve had a chance to, at least in part; appreciate the thoughts, prayers, and emails you all have sent us. Keren, Carlos, Lauren, Brad, and Esmir have proven integral to our work so far.

We got a feeling that the program will have no trouble attracting potential prospects. The guard at the school got wind of our work and asked if his brother-in-law’s kids could join in. Both Keren and Carlos said they know many kids who would love to be a part of it. Although it was difficult to say no, I thought it would be best to limit the size of the program initially. Once we get the kinks worked out and everything running smoothly, I think it would be wonderful to expand.

Yesterday was great, but we still have lots of work to do. Next week we’ll go to the other school and, if it is open, register the remaining three kids. I will also start working on ways to publicize our work in order to attract funding. Finally, we’ll get to fund-raising.

Alright, I’m off to the airport to pick up my parents. They will be here until Sunday. I’m so excited to see them!

Much love,

dylan

Off to School...

2007-12-11T16:53:00.001-06:00

What a day! I will post more tomorrow when I have more time, but I just wanted to give a brief update on today’s adventures. We hired a man named Carlos to run the program, enrolled 7 of the 10 kids in school, and took a trip to the market to purchase uniforms, backpacks, shoes, and socks. I am so thrilled with the incredible progress we were fortunate to have made today.

I’ll write more tomorrow, Lauren and I are going to get some things done and go out for the cheeseburgers we’ve been craving. Thank you so much for your support. I’m so excited that this sponsorship program is actually off the ground and that most of the kids are in school.

Have a great night!

Much love,

dylan

Plans Postponed

2007-12-10T15:27:00.000-06:00

Today didn’t go as expected – maybe it did, since Nicaragua isn’t so conducive to plans – but we still had a good time. The plan was for Keren to meet us at Pollo Campero for lunch and then get the mothers and visit the schools to discuss enrolling the kids. Unfortunately Keren’s car broke down and she wasn’t able to make it. We’re scheduled to go tomorrow, though, so hopefully that will work out.

It’s so funny how different my current work situation is from what I initially expected. I thought I would have an official position with a microfinance organization, doing some office work, field work, and writing. I also considered working at the orphanage where I spent my spring breaks, but figured that I wanted a job that was both more structured and not with kids. I really enjoy working with kids but also know that I get worn out with them quite quickly and didn’t think I had the patience to be with them every day.

Well, it looks like God had other things in store, as my “job” entails working with kids in a very unofficial and unstructured manner. Funny how that happens…

Anyways, the kids were a handful today, but still great. I don’t know what was up with my little friend Ysaac. He definitely wasn’t he usual bubbly self today. He started complaining and sulking when I didn’t give him the piece of chicken he wanted. At first he just refused to eat and sat in the corner, but after a few minutes he told me he was leaving and walked out, despite my commands to wait. After about 20 minutes of standing outside and looking in at the kids playing, then running around the parking lot, he returned, only to cause more trouble by acting up in the play area. I didn’t like having to discipline him, but I think it was certainly necessary, since it was scary watching him run around in the parking lot. I think we eventually worked everything out, though. I’m wondering if there was something else he was upset about, with the chicken incident just being the last straw.

Kevin, an 11-year old, told me he had to leave shortly after we ate so he could get back to work. I am always so sad when they do this.

It’s rained all day so Lauren and I are going to chill here and try to get some grocery shopping done if it ever lets up. It’s hard to believe this is our last week together. I am so excited for her to return home but I know that I will miss her tremendously.

Weekend Delights

2007-12-09T20:43:00.000-06:00

What a treat of a weekend! Shortly after our return to Nica I spied the unmistakable signs of a circus tent set-up. As many of you may know, the circus is one of my favorite activities. For the past week I have begged Dylan that we go to the circus. I kept eyeing the ring of elephants on the side of the highway – and could only imagine what a Nicaraguan circus might have in store. Yesterday, my wishes came true – Dylan and I went to the circus. And oh what a treat! Never have I seen so many animals involved in a circus – not only did we see the elephants that I have watched on the side of the highway, but also dogs, horses, miniature ponies, camels, and tigers. There were men running in wheels dangling from the ceiling – much like a hamster might – and they turned tricks inside their wheels – and one even climbed atop his wheel and managed to perform all sorts of tricks from the very top of the wheels – while blindfolded. There were dancers and tumblers and trapeze artists – and a balancing man and flying dancers and the world’s smallest man (truly, he could not have been more than two feet tall)! The tigers jumped through hoops of fire – and one even sat in a swing that was raised above the cage height, just swinging back and forth over the performance ring. However, Dylan and I both agreed – the dog stole the show.

Anyways…aside from the delight of the circus – this weekend has truly been great. The weather hasn’t been too hot – and we’ve had a constant nice breeze. Yesterday Dylan and I walked home after our dinner out – just to enjoy the beautiful night. And today, at church, a woman gave us English translators so that we could actually understand more than a handful of words during the sermon. All in all – it’s been pretty perfect.

Since our return to Nica (after Thanksgiving) I think that I have been in a bit of a rut. Knowing that I have less than a week left seems rather daunting. I keep questioning whether I have accomplished what I [thought] I came down here to do – or what else I could be doing. I feel that there must be more that I can do for the kids or the orphanage – but I just don’t know what. And at the same time, I just can’t fathom what to say to the children – or how to say goodbye. They have already lost so much in their short life that I am just not sure how to say goodbye without doing any more damage.

Regardless of all that, the kids and I have had a wonderful time this past week. The orphanage has undergone some rather drastic changes. Since my return they have gained four new children (two boys, two girls), Poncho (the semi-English speaking man that ran the orphanage) left and three new women have started working there. Initially, these changes created quite an upset among the children. Poncho’s leaving was a disaster; however, the new women in charge have done an excellent job with the children – and for once, the children are actually being tended to and treated for colds, cuts, etc. They are much more disciplined and are settling in to a strict routine (that includes mandatory “silent time” for at least one hour a day). It’s a strange adjustment to make.

Early in our trip down here I had decided that I wanted to do one big project with the children at the orphanage – and had chosen to try and create a Spanish-English book for them (as their only books are two English storybooks that no one can read to them – and they cannot understand). My initial plans for the book turned out to be a disaster – as I wasn’t able to clearly articulate my ideas into Spanish. However, while I was home over Thanksgiving I managed to create a book that each of the children could enjoy. It is an English-Spanish coloring book that has the alphabet, colors, shapes and numbers. Each page contains a picture that they can color as well as the Spanish – and English equivalent – of the pictures. So, each child received a book and a box of crayons to color the pictures. Last week I was able to distribute the books to the children and watch their excitement as they realized what it was. The older kids were so eager to have a resource to learn English – on their own – that we must have read through the book at least 10 times. Then, we spent the next two and a half hours coloring the pictures. Every day last week the women at the orphanage allowed me to spend at least one hour with the children working on their books. It has been a great bonding experience – and a much better teaching method than I would have imagined. Each day when I arrived at the orphanage they kids would tell me the new English words that they learned the night before. So again and again I would hear them repeating – “apple, manzana” and “casa, house.” It was such a triumph for each of them each time they were able to master a new word. And, now all of the kids five and older are able to count to ten, in English, without my assistance. A small accomplishment to some – but such a treat for me to hear!

I finally managed to upload the pictures from the past month or so – so, you should be able to see pictures of our trip to San Juan del Sur, more pictures of the kiddies, the books I made for the children, and our trip to the circus. Here’s the link:

http://www.flickr.com/photos/15927088@N07/

Thank you all so much for continuing to keep Dylan and me in your thoughts and prayers. This really would not be possible without you guys.

Wishing you the happiest of holiday seasons! All my love,

Lauren

Friday - 12/7

2007-12-07T16:43:00.000-06:00

Although I am hesitant to write this, for fear of jinxing the progress, but it appears that at present the family feud, which has been so long a part of the picture, has regressed. Everyone has been getting along quite well, making our time together much more enjoyable.

The group only numbered 8 today. My Spanish deficiencies keep me from understanding why some kids remain at home some days, but it seems like almost every day one of the kids doesn’t come.

There was another group using the outside area when we arrived. The kids sat surprisingly peacefully inside, eating and waiting until the other kids left before dashing outside and going crazy on the equipment.

In what has developed into somewhat of a pattern, all of the kids played while Ninoska and I sat and talked. Usually we can communicate well enough to get our points across, but deep conversations are hard to have.

Today Ninoska told me that she doesn’t want to go to school, insisting that she would rather work. I had been naïve in assuming that they all wanted to attend school. Coming from a background in which education is commonly seen as the “ticket out,” I unfairly assumed this concept, so ingrained in the American culture, would be present here, too. While it’s hard for me to understand her point of view, I do recognize the difficulty she must have seeing the long-term benefits of education considering her circumstances.

My heart hurt as she explained her position by claiming, “I’m stupid,” and, “I like working on the streets.” I told her that I think she’s very intelligent and can be whatever she wants to be when she grows up. She had told me previously that she wanted to be a doctor, so I told her that she needs to study if she wanted to reach that goal. She answered that she would rather work on the streets.

She then told me that I’m not able to help them forever, asking. “When you go back to the US, get a job, and have kids, then what?” I tried to assure her that I am working to establish a way to offer long-term help, but my limited Spanish made this difficult. I hope I got the point across.

It was a tough conversation, but I’m hopeful that when Keren comes next week we’ll be able to sort things out with her mother. The key will be getting her support in getting Ninoska to school.

The city is abuzz with Purisima excitement. The fireworks have been going off all day and kids with bags of goodies can be seen everywhere. Ninoska told me that the holiday culminates with everyone shooting off fireworks at midnight. I am already looking forward to waking up to such a startling event.

La Purisima

2007-12-06T18:27:00.000-06:00

When I arrived at the street corner today I found about 15 kids waiting for me. I always struggle with choosing which kids can come to lunch since it’s so hard to tell them ‘no.’ Unfortunately, it’s necessary since neither my bank account not Pollo Campero would appreciate such a large group.

10 kids and I headed off to PC to meet my friend Brad, who joined us today. We had a great time. Brad was so wonderful with the kids. I enjoyed watching him interact with them and I know the kids appreciated having someone who can actually speak Spanish there. About halfway through our usual time at PC Carlos, one of the older boys, told me that he had to leave and resume working. Watching him walk away, box of leftover chicken in hand, was so sad. It’s tragic to watch these kids be forced to live adult lives – extremely difficult ones at that – at such young ages.

All during lunch the kids excitedly told me about “La Purisima.” I didn’t understand any of their descriptions but thankfully Brad filled me in. La Purisima is a Catholic holiday that is very important in Nicaragua. I read online just now that it is only celebrated here, although I am not sure if that is true. It celebrates the Immaculate Conception. Traditional Purisima festivities include going from house to house singing Christmas Carols and praying to the Virgin Mary. Hosts are expected to offer their guests little bags of treats after the singing. I also read online that many fireworks are set off during this holiday, a claim which I can attest to, having heard them throughout the day, including at an almost constant pace throughout the 10 minutes I’ve been writing so far.

Although the real holiday (I think) is tomorrow, the kids informed us that there was a celebration at a governmental building near their street corner today. Nicaraguans LOVE parties and traditions so I’m not surprised that this holiday seems to be an extended one. The kids led Brad and me to the office building where we were handed tickets for the 3pm party. We went back to where their mothers sell sunglasses and towels and hung out, since it was only about 2:15. The mothers bought oranges, from a man pushing a grocery cart full of them up the street, for all of the kids and Brad and me. They were delicious and quite a nice gift.

Around 2:45 we walked back to the office building to find a long line already forming. I was surprised, since most people here are on “Nica time,” meaning they show up at least 30 minutes late for everything. I didn’t know what was about to happen, but the kids were certainly quite excited. Throughout our 20 minutes or so in line we were entertained by very loud fireworks which exploded right above us. It was…noisy.

Once inside the gates we were told to line up according to age. Upon reaching the front of the line the kids received a bag full of candy, fruit, juice, and a plastic ball. My line – the adults – got a plastic bowl containing an orange, a banana, chips, and two pieces of candy. Everyone received a stick, about a foot in length and two inches in diameter. We all walked back to the street corner, all the while I was wondering what the heck I am supposed to do with my stick.

I became even more confused when the kids starting gnawing at the ends of their sticks. “This is a crazy country,” I thought.

It turns out that the sticks are actually pieces of sugar cane which, when chewed correctly, give off a pleasant taste. I took some funny pictures of everyone sitting on the curb chewing on sticks.

After our snacks we all played soccer with one of the new plastic balls for about an hour. Playing on a patch of grass next to the road, littered with trash, broken bottles, and rocks, made me appreciate the luscious soccer fields I played on as a kid. The kids are good players, especially considering the conditions and improper footwear. Finally, Brad and I left as the sun was about to set, ending a wonderful day with the kids.

I enjoyed spending more time with the kids in their element. It was extremely difficult to watch them work while we waited for the Purisima, but I gained a better appreciation for what their lives look like when I am not around.

Story Time

2007-12-05T15:42:00.000-06:00

Here are just a few anecdotes from the last few days which I hope you find interesting.

1 – Yesterday, as I prepared to leave after lunch, the kids readied themselves, as usual, to accompany me to my bus stop. I needed to pick up some groceries up the street and also wanted to check out the showtimes for the nearby circus, so I told them that I wasn’t taking the bus. Ninoska, the oldest girl, thought that I perhaps didn’t have enough money for the bus fare, so she offered me some of the cords she earned washing windshields earlier in the day. Her generosity was remarkable.

2 – I got a kick out of seeing Leonardo, the 9-year old boy, running around yesterday in a Ray Lewis jersey which had been donated, and I had given to him last week. One of the mothers thanked me for all of the “beautiful clothes” that you all donated. So, on behalf of the families, thanks!

3 - Today, as I was leaving, the mother of two of the kids (not one of the feuding families) gave me one of the beach towels she sells on the street corner. I was so touched by the gift. Her son also gave me a t-shirt last week. It is amazing how giving these families have been, considering they have almost nothing for themselves.

4 – The kids ask about our friend Nefret, who visited in October and spent substantial time with the kids, every day. It is so cool to see the incredible impact Nefret made in just a week. I bet that I’ve been asked when Nefret is coming back approximately 100 times since she left. Today we also discussed my departure in January. I reassured the kids that Nefret and I would come back and visit during the summer. I haven’t talked with Nefret about this yet though… :)

5 - I ran into my friend Mikael today. He is a taxi driver / translator with whom I've worked on previous trips. I was a bit alarmed when I saw a taxi reversing down the street but soon realized it was him. I got his number and hopefully I will see him soon.

Today was good. We had 11 kids but 6 of them left early when their mothers came to get them for baths. The 5 who remained were wonderful and we had a great time.

That’s all for now. I am so thankful that you are reading this. It means so much to me and Lauren that you are interested and supportive of what we are involved with here. You are the best!

-dw

The Kids are Tight

2007-12-04T17:45:00.001-06:00

Today was better, for many reasons. Most importantly, there was no drama between the kids today. It was so nice to have everyone ready and eager to have lunch today. We rolled deep again – 10 kids and me – even with one of the usual boys missing.

Discipline and maintaining order have become more important as the group has grown larger. I thought that I had trouble managing the kids I worked with this summer at my mom’s child care center, but I’ve been appreciating how easy I had it back then. At least I spoke their language! In addition, these Nicaraguan kids have not grown up learning manners and how to act in public situations like most kids in America. Living in dire poverty and working on the streets limits the opportunities during which such manners are necessitated. However, this means that the kids are even harder to control.

Previously I had trouble disciplining them because I was reluctant to correct such underprivileged children. Since then, however, a few people have given me great advice concerning the benefits of establishing boundaries. Now, even though I understand these benefits, I have trouble establishing order because of the language barrier and their unfamiliarity with having rules.

The previous two paragraphs are just other ways of restating my difficulties in telling the kids not to run inside, wrestle outside of the play area, run around with their food, or stand on the tables. I also have trouble preventing and breaking up fights.

Despite the disciplinary issues I had a great time with the kids today. I often get preoccupied with their faults, but today I was struck with how amazing they are. With their backgrounds there is no way they should exude as much joy and innocence as they do. I appreciated their smiles, laughs, and hugs more than usual today, likely because I was thinking about the trials they’ve faced and the perseverance they exemplify. Although they can be frustrating and certainly test my patience, I was reminded today of just how wonderful and beautiful they truly are. I also learned that I have a looooong way to go before I am ready to be a parent!

From yesterday, Dec 3rd

2007-12-04T10:23:00.000-06:00

Yesterday was one of the hardest days I’ve had so far, although I can’t give a sure explanation why. I think a combination of missing home, feeling a little sick, and taking a practice GRE established a dreary tone for the day before I even went to hang out with the kids.

When I got off the bus I saw some of the kids playing with two teenage girls – maybe 18 and 16 – near the street corner. Ninoska and Kevin were washing windshields right near the bus stop, so I stopped and said hi to them before walking over to greet the rest of the kids. Ninoska and Kevin seemed fine and excited to join us. When they followed me over to join the other kids though, they moods immediately changed. They initially refused to come, and walked back to the corner to resume working. I told the other kids, who had started the walk, to wait and pleaded with Kevin and Ninoska to come. Only then did they start following us, albeit at a distance.

The group initially numbered 8 yesterday. With such a large group I am so glad that there’s a play area at Pollo Campero. There is no way I could contain them in the food court at Metrocentro. We ate fried chicken and the kids played for a long time.

Ninoska and Kevin spent the first 45 minutes or so standing outside the outdoor eating area, staring in at us through the metal bars. It was so hard to see them out there and not understand why they were upset or how to fix the situation. They told me they were upset with some of the other kids but I was unable to gather more. I was quite frustrated with my low level of Spanish skills. Being frustrated, in turn, only worsened my conversational skills.

Eventually Ninoska and Kevin agreed to come in and eat. They even played a little bit. I was so glad that they could let go of their differences for a little bit and just be kids. Seeing that innocence return for an hour was wonderful.

The rule is that the kids each get two pieces of chicken, and I had saved 4 pieces for two of the kids who weren’t there. Sadly, one of the kids either ate them or, what I think is the more likely explanation, packed them away in their carry-out boxes. I was disappointed that one of the kids did this, but not entirely surprised considering the temptation the extra chicken must have been. I can’t expect kids who live such tough lives to always make the right choice, especially when they are hungry.

I had always heard the importance of doing this kind of work with either a partner or a team, but I am only now beginning to recognize the truth in such a claim. I think that the language barrier only amplifies my need for a partner in these endeavors. Living with Lauren has been amazing, and I have treasured our time together and her support. However, I think it’s important to not only live with someone, but also work with others. So, a word of advice to anyone looking to do service or missionary work – find a partner!

I am excited about a few things. First, my friend Brad is going to try to come on Thursday. He is great, and speaks Spanish much better than I do. He also has a motorcycle, so we are thinking about going to Ninoska’s house for a bit after lunch that day. Also, Keren is going to come one day next week to try to meet with the schools to move forward with the sponsorship program. We have also talked about hiring someone to run it after I leave. I am pleased with the progress we’ve made, and hopefully will continue to make next week.

Thank you all for the amazing support you have given us throughout our time here. I have no doubt that your encouragement has been instrumental in allowing us to continue our work here.

Much love,

Weekend Update

2007-12-02T14:18:00.000-06:00

The weekend has been fairly uneventful so far. Yesterday we watched a good amount of football, went grocery shopping, and hung out with our friends Brad and Esmir. Today we went to church and then came back here. I’ve been watching football and Lauren went for a walk and then to read at a nearby coffee shop. Tonight we are supposed to meet up with Abdhie, Keren, Brad, and Esmir for dinner. It should be fun.

Two highlights of the weekend so far:

1 – Our trip to the art museum/gallery yesterday. Ever since we moved into this neighborhood Lauren and I have looked forward to visiting the Genesis museum, located about a 4-minute walk away from our house. We’ve thought about visiting Genesis multiple times, but chose to save it for a special occasion. We didn’t have any plans yesterday and wanted to take advantage of Lauren’s second-to-last weekend here, so we excitedly headed out to make an afternoon of the trip.

Knocking on the door, we realized that the Genesis, advertised as both a museum and gallery, is actually someone’s house, in which the owner happens to sell paintings. So, a woman awkwardly followed us through the three rooms while Lauren and I looked at the paintings, trying to hide our smiles about how we misjudged the affair. After walking around for a little bit we said our thanks and left. What was to be an afternoon’s adventure took about 7 minutes. Oh well!

2 – No more blackouts! As of yesterday, the daily blackouts are history. We found out they were reduced on Nov 15^th, the day we left, and eliminated yesterday. Lauren and I have found ourselves confused between 7-9:30pm this week since our lights remained on. Such a treat!

Ok, that’s all for now. I hope everyone had a wonderful weekend.

Much love,

Perspective, More Family Trouble, and Sean Taylor

2007-11-30T20:19:00.000-06:00

I am beginning to realize that living and working with the poor in Nicaragua is hard not because of the actual, physical work we do, but because of the inescapable questions we face as a result of the advantageous lot we’ve been cast. I only spend time “working” with the kids for about 2 hours each day, but the impact of my time lasts long past saying goodbye. Each afternoon I am mentally and emotionally exhausted, both from trying to control a group of rowdy kids and trying to come to grips with the existence of such harsh poverty and struggles. From this I often spend the late afternoons reflecting and writing about questions like, “Am I really helping?” and, “Now that I’ve been exposed to this poverty, how should my life change?”

Today brought forth more examples of such questions. I met the kids on the corner, as usual, and our group of 8 went to Pollo Campero again. Today we ate outside, which was good because it made the cleanup from our mess much easier. The kids ran around and played on the jungle gym, stopping occasionally to take a bite of fried chicken. They seemed to enjoy themselves.

While the younger kids were playing I had a chance to talk to Ninoska, the oldest girl. She told me that the families were still having trouble. Although my understanding is severely hindered by my lack of Spanish skills, I think Ninoska told me that the problems were actually getting worse.

I agreed to visit their house on Monday, so that should certainly be interesting. I hope it doesn’t cause any more drama.

After lunch I distributed all of the girls’ clothes which were generously donated. The ongoing family rivalry made itself known when Ninoska asked if she could receive her clothes up the street, away from the girls from the other family. I gave Sonia, Joselyn, and the baby girl her clothes and then started walking up to meet Ninoska and Stephanie (definitely spelled differently) with theirs.

Sonia walked with me and then, peering into my bag, asked why I had given more to Ninoska. I responded that all of the bags had an equal amount of clothes, to which she called me a liar. That was really hard to hear. I will admit that I was slightly upset because of her ingratitude, but the majority was derived from the obvious problems present between the two families. The last thing I want to do is cause more trouble.

I talked with Adbhie and Keren today – we are going to have dinner on Sunday and discuss the next step in helping the kids get into school. Hopefully we can build off of the progress we made together before I left.

On a completely unrelated note, I have been thinking a lot about Sean Taylor, the Redskins player who was tragically murdered this week. I am so upset by his passing, much like I was when the Broncos’ Darrent Williams was murdered last year. I don’t have any eloquent words to express my emotions. It’s just quite sad. I hope that the media, and the American public, doesn’t immediately jump to conclusions about causes for Taylor’s attack just because he is young, black, rich, and famous. What a tragedy.

A Return to the Kiddies

2007-11-29T18:41:00.001-06:00

I caught a taxi to Metrocentro today, since I didn’t want to carry my big bag of clothes on the bus, in order to meet the kids for lunch. I was kind of nervous, I think because I was afraid something would have changed while I was gone. When I got there the kids ran up and greeted me, quickly calming my nerves and assuring me that we could pick up right where we left off.

Somehow the group seemed to expand in my absence, as 11 kids were ready and waiting today. Although it’s so hard to do, I initially told them I couldn’t take everyone out to lunch. They responded by saying the newcomers would only play, and not eat, to which I caved and said they could come.

We broke tradition and, at the kids’ request, ate at Pollo Campero (a KFCish restaurant), about 2 blocks from Metrocentro. This turned out to be a wonderful development, as Pollo Campero had a jungle gym, thus allowing the kids to entertain themselves and run around out there instead of inside, like they usually do in Metrocentro. They played outside while I ordered a couple huge family meals.

The lunch started out on a trying note when four of the kids managed to spill their drinks, two on me, within the first 5 minutes of their arrival. They were surprisingly well-behaved during the division of the chicken and, for the most part, during the meal, though. The downside of such a large group is I was more of a manager than a dining companion. However, I’m glad so many kids could come.

After we ate the kids played in the play area or drew pictures with me at the table. The staff at Pollo Campero was very receptive and hospitable, allowing us to stay although we were surely bothering other customers purely as a result of putting 11 street kids in a restaurant setting.

We then went back to their street corner and I handed out all boys’ clothes all of you have so generously donated over the last few months. They were so excited! Tomorrow I’ll bring the girls’ clothes, I couldn’t carry both sets today – a good problem to have! I also gave the mothers a huge bottle of chewable vitamins for each family, which were also donated. I felt poorly that I didn’t have clothes for the newcomers, but you all were so generous that there are more clothes waiting in my attic to be delivered next time we have visitors.

Spending time with the kids today was personally very relieving. I had such a wonderful time at home that I struggled with getting back into the Nicaraguan groove yesterday afternoon and this morning. After today’s lunch, though, I know that I am supposed to be here and am happy to see what happens with the kids. I know that although there are sad times when I miss home tremendously; there are also times here when I see God in each of the kids I work with. It’s the latter times, and the amazing support you have given us, which provide me motivation to keep going.

Much love,
dw

Back in Town

2007-11-28T19:15:00.000-06:00

We’re back! Lauren and I arrived safely here in Managua this afternoon after spending last night in Miami with our dear friend Denis. We loved touring Denis’ office, going out for a Cuban dinner, and catching up in his apartment. We spent the evening with him during our initial trip down here in September (although it was due to a missed connection!) so we’re glad it’s becoming a tradition of sorts.

We arrived to sun, mild weather, and an apartment without running water or internet. Shockingly, both our water and internet were restored within 20 minutes after a phone call with the cable company and a chat with the man who works for our apartment complex. Lauren and I then took a trip to the grocery store and restocked our barren pantry.

Although I am excited to get back and see the kids again, it was quite hard to leave home yesterday. Spending 12 days with family and friends reminded me of the amazing life I have at home. It’s funny that I had to travel to Nicaragua to find out how good I have it in Baltimore. I know that I am committed to helping these kids and earnestly want to see this sponsorship program idea through to the end, whether in success or failure. All of this being said, it is good to be back.

We’re heading out to the little restaurant up the street for dinner since we are about to lose power and don’t want to eat in the dark tonight. Hopefully Lauren and I will have interesting items to report as we return to our kids tomorrow!

Much love to you all,

"Home"

2007-11-14T23:17:00.000-06:00

Well, I realize that Dylan has already posted a blog for this evening, but in light of our approaching departure tomorrow morning – I thought it would only be appropriate for me to return to the blog.

It’s difficult to believe that we have been here for over a month and a half – even harder to believe that we will be returning to the states for a bit tomorrow. Nicaragua has begun to feel a bit like “a home.” I have definitely adjusted to the steady hum of routine and settled into my life down here; granted, that’s not to say that I do not miss my life at home – just that I have come to accept and embrace my life in Nicaragua.

My time in Nicaragua has been nothing short of endless blessings, personal struggles and self-growth. It is not possible to put a value on the time I have spent down here so far – only to say that the experiences I have been through and the relationships I have established with the children at the orphanage have far surpassed any expectations I might have had.

I have had the opportunity to build some amazing relationships with the fourteen children at the orphanage, but it’s hard to describe any of them. I have grown to love and admire each of the children – but in different ways. I have had the opportunity to grow with many of the children, and experience new things with each of them. A couple of weeks ago, Ismael, a five-year old, broke his arm in three places while playing at school. I took him to the hospital and sat with him while his arm was set and re-set (without any anesthetics). I have never witnessed such bravery in such a small boy. Baby Kevin said his first words to me almost a month ago – “mama.” Every day he waits by the front window, waiting for me to arrive and claps his hands screaming “mama, mama” over and over again until I pick him up so he can give me a kiss on the cheek. He’s grown so much since I first arrived. He is now learning how to feed himself – but pretends that he does not know how so that he is still allowed to sit in my lap at lunchtime. Dayana, a little five year old girl who was abused since she was two or three has slowly come out of her shell – every day she spends more and more time with the group of us and has even begun to sit in my lap and let me braid her hair…

Despite my initial belief that I would be spending the majority of my time teaching them – I find that very little time is spent teaching, while the majority of my time is spent nurturing and loving. The children and I have settled into a steady routine – only interrupted by punishments directed their way from the orphanage director. Like today for example: It was my last day before heading back to the states for a bit – and I wanted to bring a treat to the kids. Dylan and I have been saving my Pooh Bear birthday piñata for a special occasion – so I decided to bring it in to the orphanage. First, you must realize the struggle I went through to bring Pooh safely to the orphanage. Pooh is at least half my size – and an awkward animal to carry. As I lugged him from our apartment to the street – his head in one hand and his body hugged to mine with the other – I believe that every Nicaraguan member of our neighborhood came outside to watch me – as if I were a one-person parade or something. It was rather embarrassing. But, I don’t blame them for laughing at me. Anyways, once I arrived at the orphanage – with Pooh Bear safely intact, Olga – the director of the orphanage – told me that the piñata would have to be put away. Apparently all of the children were being bad today. So, as punishment, the piñata was locked inside of a room by the window – where the children could watch it all day long, just taunting them. In addition, I was advised that the children were not allowed to dance, sing, listen to music, watch tv, color, play with blocks, play with any toys, or go outside. Oh, and that they had to write the numbers 1 to 1000 in their notebooks as well as each letter of the alphabet 100 times each. Can you imagine such a punishment? I was shocked. I tried to plead on their behalf. Then on my behalf. But Olga won. So, I spent my last day at the orphanage attempting to be “stern” and making sure that the children were doing as directed. Basically, this resulted in my causing many of the children to be further punished – as I couldn’t help but laugh at many of them or help playing a few games. So – we spent a bit of “time out” in the bedrooms too.

As a farewell to me the children showered me with their English progress. They lined up and counted for me – the numbers one through ten – in English. This is a big feat mind you, as we have been working on this for over a month – and they have been struggling. Today was the first day that any of them have successfully counted to ten on their own. I am not sure I have ever been so proud…my heart swells just thinking about it.

I am excited to be returning home tomorrow – to see my friends and family. But, at the same time, I am struggling at the thought of leaving these children behind. All along I have been working with these kids assuming that I would be helping them and providing them some love and support. But, in reality – they have become a part of my family; they have taught me about love and brought me such joy. So, tomorrow I will be returning home to my family – but, at the same time, I will be leaving behind a big group of family as well…

If yesterday was a major low point, then today was a significant high one

2007-11-14T23:08:00.000-06:00

This morning was one of those mornings when one wakes up and is partly afraid to get out of bed because of the day’s potential difficulties. Although I was legitimately very excited about the possibility of working out a way to get the kids into a school, many substantial challenges stood in front of us. Besides, I didn’t know whether the kids are in school already, since I heard contradictory reports from Sonia’s father and the American donors. I prayed this morning that God would use me to do his will in this situation, and not allow myself to get caught up in how “successful” our day was.

The day started out about as poorly as I could have imagined. My friend Keren and I were only able to find Sonia’s parents, which was a big disappointment since I wanted to talk with both mothers at the same time to prevent any miscommunications.

Our conversation started out fine, as Sonia’s parents thanked me for my help. Next, though, they told me they thought it would be best if I stopped taking the kids out to lunch since I had caused some drama between the two mothers. I had Keren tell them that while I recognized the problems between the families, I didn’t want them to supercede the kids’ welfare in importance, although I would grant their wish if they really wanted me to.

At this point Sonia’s mother, Karla, asked to speak with us alone. I found it odd that she would want to talk with us without her husband, but quickly realized why when she told us that the father is a drunk and spends all of their money on alcohol. She said that they aren’t married but live together and have had all of the kids together.

Keren and I had talked prior to today’s meeting about the best possible approach to take in offering to help pay for the kids to attend school. We decided it would be best to lay out our plan to both mothers at the same time, so we went with Sonia’s mother and the mother of two other kids who I spent time with as well to see Ana Patricia, Ninoska’s mother.

The conversation with the two mothers went quite well. Keren explained to them that we want to start a sponsorship program in which friends and family from the US can partner with these two families and send the kids to school. Keren asked the mothers to pick a school which they preferred for their kids. It turns out that Carlos and Kevin, Ninoska’s two brothers, attend the school whose director and donors I met yesterday. Sonia and her three siblings do not currently attend school. This cleared up the issue of whether the kids attend school or not.

Ana Patricia likes the school her two kids (Carlos and Kevin) go to, which I think is great since it is literally right across the street from their house. She said that this sponsorship program would allow her to send Ninoska back to school, and also allow her family to save the small, but very important, amount of money they spend on school for Carlos and Kevin.

Karla is not too fond of this school and chose another school nearby. She also thought this was a better choice because it would also give Sonia and Ninoska some space, since they don’t always get along.

In addition to paying for school, Keren had the great idea of offering a reward of $25/month worth of food for the parents to send their kids to school. It makes sense, since the kids earn money for the family on the street, that we should compensate the family for their lost income and give them an incentive for sending them to school. The moms approved of this deal, even agreeing to get receipts to prove the money is being used for food.

In addition, the mother of two other kids I’ve been spending time with, Josselyn and Jonathan, agreed to this deal as well. This brings the total to 9 kids. Very exciting!

The trip to their neighborhood was quite beneficial. I really enjoyed seeing Ninoska’s house, meeting her dad, checking out their school, and getting a better feel for their lives. The house, made of cinder blocks and scraps of metal, is very small. I’m not sure how they fit the parents, three older kids, and a baby in there. I was really touched when Ana Patricia showed me a letter I wrote to Ninoska on the wall of her house.

I am so glad the moms could put aside their differences in order to talk about helping their kids. Although we didn’t work out the specifics I am so encouraged that the moms agreed to the deal in principle.

Many of you have contacted us with very generous offers to help. Hopefully this sponsorship program will become a real possibility. I’ll certainly keep you all posted when we figure out some more details.

After talking with the moms we went back to Metrocentro where I met the kids for lunch. All nine of us crowded around a few tables we put together and enjoyed one last meal from Tip-Top.

Afterwards we went to the “Fun House,” which is an arcade in the mall. The kids were out-of-control excited and I quickly realized I was completely unable to manage them. We spent about an hour there, most of which I was being dragged around by jumping, smiling children speaking much faster than I could ever hope to understand, wanting me to swipe the card which allowed them to play the games they wanted. It was intense but definitely lots of fun. The only way I could get them to leave was to offer to ice cream, which was another hit.

Saying goodbye was tough, but in a good way. We made some major strides today in our relationships and I think this depth will be reflected in how excited I will be to see them again when I return after our brief trip back to the States. I was so glad that the kids had a fun last day devoid of drama. They deserved it after the troubles we’ve had the past few days.

It’s amazing how attached I’ve become to kids whom I’ve really only known for about a month and have immense trouble communicating with. They really are beautiful children who have just been born into circumstances far more difficult than I could ever imagine.

Ok, that’s all for now. The blog will likely be dormant for some time as we’ll both be home until Nov. 28^th, although there is a rumor that Lauren might save you from having to constantly read my writing sometime soon…

Thank you so much for all of the support we’ve gotten throughout this first leg of our adventure. It’s been so wonderful for us to receive so much love and encouragement. Even by just reading this blog you are supporting us much more than you will ever know. We’ve both been so blessed by family and friends throughout the last 7.5 weeks and can’t wait to return home to thank you all in person.

Much love,

More Confusion

2007-11-13T16:36:00.001-06:00

When I woke up this morning I felt like I was getting into a little groove here in Nicaragua. In a country full of surprises I had established a loose daily routine of Spanish class, lunch and time with the kids, and back home to write before dinner. This sense of familiarity took a major blow today, when I was faced with a couple situations for which I felt completely unprepared.

After class, as always, I walked to meet the kids in front of Metrocentro. Seven kids came today. Initially everything seemed fine, but even before we made it to the parking lot Ninoska and Sonia started screaming at each other while I tried, in vain, to diffuse the situation. My limited Spanish becomes virtually nonexistent when I am nervous, anxious, or pretty much anywhere but sitting in class, so I resorted to using English. They stopped for a bit but were clearly still livid at each other.

When we reached the parking lot a skinny, dirty man approached and asked me, in English, if I was with an organization. He then proceeded to tell me that he is HIV-Positive and trying to raise money to pay the rent for 85 HIV and AIDS patients who are getting evicted from their residences. The man, named Henry, had lived in the States for some years so he spoke English fairly well. He told me that the government has been giving them trouble and that they had nowhere to go. He then asked for money, all the while painting a picture of pure desperation of the situation with his words. He gave me gory descriptions of his own medical problems, telling me, “I should be in the hospital right now, but we need the money so I’m out here.”

The kids were imploring me to ignore him and to go, but I didn’t have the heart to leave him. I gave him 40 Cordobas – a little more than $2.00. Whether he was telling the truth or not, I’m not sure, but he wrote me a “receipt” and gave me an address, inviting me to check out where they were staying. Later the kids told me to never go there since it was surely a trap and I would be beat up and robbed.

During this conversation the kids were surprisingly patient and quiet. At about this time, however, something was said and Sonia and Ninoska started attacking each other physically. Separating the girls was much harder than I thought. Although I eventually broke up the physical fight, the verbal assault continued. Henry translated Ninoska’s barbs, telling me that she was calling Sonia’s mother a liar and commenting on how much Sonia had changed after meeting me.

I don’t think I can do the scene justice with words. I found myself in a situation I never would have predicted; on a street corner in Managua trying to break up a real fight – punches were thrown, hair was pulled, faces were scratched – between street kids while standing next to a HIV-Positive man begging for money.

The situation got even more depressing when Henry then asked for more money, even getting on his knees at one point and saying, “I’m begging you in the name of Jesus Christ.” This was the closest I’ve ever come to completely losing my composure here. Each component of that situation – the drama between the girls, Henry’s begging, and the ever-present poverty – is worthy of provoking immense sorrow and tears.

I didn’t give Henry any more money then, explaining to him that I needed to buy lunch for the kids, and would return if I had any change following our meal. I didn’t know what else to do.

We went inside and, after finding a table, Ninoska gave me a letter to read and desperately tried to explain its contents when I told her I didn’t understand it. She was so adamant on conveying her message that I called Keren and had her translate. It turns out that Ninoska said she doesn’t want to come to lunch anymore because her mom thinks their family would be better served with using the money I spent on their lunches to buy more items to sell on the street. She offered me a set of binoculars if I would give them 300 Cordobas.

I found myself confused, distressed, and frustrated by my lack of communication skills as a result of the proceeding 20 minutes. I wish that I can report that I maturely and quickly made decisions and handled the situation, but this is simply not true. I felt paralyzed by what had happened and was happening. I told Ninoska, through Keren, that I was going to buy her lunch today and that we could talk about it tomorrow when Keren came.

Shortly thereafter an American man approached me and curiously asked what I was doing. I explained, and he told me he is a major donor to the school which all of the kids attend. He informed me that he and another donor were having lunch with the director of the school a few tables over.

I went over and met the director, and through the American man’s translation, found out that all of the kids except for Ninoska go to the school every morning. The school itself is private and non-profit, funded by Americans. I was so confused – didn’t Sonia’s father tell me just last week that none of them go to school? I mentioned this and no one seemed to have any answers.

I expressed my desire to help the kids and their families. The female donor suggested that I volunteer at the school, helping with English and serving as a role model. I told her that I’d consider the opportunity when I returned at the end of the month. The director told me a little about the kids before imploring me to never keep money or valuables in my backpack while around them, since they were “wise.”

When I returned to the kids they told me, in hushed voices, that the director was a mean lady and doesn’t try to help them. I was now more confused than ever.

Considering today’s events, I really don’t know what to do tomorrow, when I had planned on going to another school in the kids’ neighborhood with Keren and their parents to explore a way to get them admitted. Now that I know they are in school I don’t know what I should do. I am going to call Keren in a little bit and see what she thinks.

Another day in Nicaragua, more tough questions I am unable to answer. It seems like something happens every day which causes my heart to break a little more. I’m sure that this blog is quite scattered and incomplete, but I think that’s an appropriate representation of what happened today and how I’m feeling. The only solution I can think of is prayer. I know that I am far from able to help these kids and deal with these challenges on my own, but God can, and is willing to, help.

Family Problems and Angelic Children

2007-11-13T07:04:00.000-06:00

I saw Sonia’s father selling his car accessories when I got off the bus yesterday morning so I decided to go tell him that we’d go to the school on Wednesday. After I attempted to convey this point, he told me some story from which I only understood that there was a fight. The language barrier can be so frustrating sometimes. I then walked to class before returning for lunch.

Thankfully all of the kids – Ninoska included – came to lunch yesterday. Unlike Friday, they were all happy and drama-free. Unfortunately, the same could not be said for the parents. Sonia’s mother and Ninoska’s mother are sisters and don’t seem to have the friendliest relationship. Sonia’s mother complained to me about her sister, telling me they got in a fight this weekend. She showed me the cut above her lip and some sort of court-related paper detailing the incident. Ninoska’s mother was present during this conversation, leading me to feel quite awkward.

Ninoska explained to me that her mother was upset with Sonia’s mother because Sonia’s mother asked me for money to buy a crib for her baby. Ninoska’s mom thought her sister was taking advantage of me. Supposedly that was the root of all of the drama on Friday, and it escalated when Sonia’s mother told Ninoska that I told her not to come to lunch anymore. I will say that, in light of my poor Spanish, there is plenty of room for error in these explanations, but this is what I could gather yesterday.

I was quite worried that the families were fighting because of something I have done. I told both mothers that I want to help both families, not play favorites. They explained to me that they were having family problems apart from me. Whether this is true or not, I’m not sure. Not that the situation is any better if I am not the cause, but I would feel terrible if somehow I was making things worse.

Lunch itself was great. For some reason the kids were very well behaved. I wondered what happened to them over the weekend. For the most part they refrained from rolling around on the floor, running into people, pressing the alarm button on the elevator, or pushing the emergency stop button on the escalator.

I had a chance to talk with just Ninoska’s mother after lunch and tried to explain my plan to get the kids into the Catholic school near their house. She said she would come with us on Wednesday to try to set it up. That conversation was very encouraging. I’m really hoping that we can make progress on this school endeavor before I leave.

Two more days before we come back! I am realizing how blessed I am to have a life that I love here as well as one in Baltimore. We can’t wait to see everyone.

Much love,

Play Ball!

2007-11-12T06:48:00.001-06:00

Yesterday’s highlight was most definitely our trip to the baseball game. While I was able to use my press pass to gain free admission, Lauren had to buy a $3.50 ticket. We ended up sitting about 15 rows behind home plate. We could have sat in the first row behind the field but the intense Nicaraguan sun chased us into the shade.

Despite poverty’s omnipresence, Nicaragua seems like one big party. The atmosphere at the baseball game was certainly no exception. Even though there were no more than 4,000 people in attendance the crowd was louder than any I’ve been a part of at Camden Yards in quite some time. Missing was the sterile, ordinary, apathetic feeling that one often experiences at Camden Yards. Instead of professionals using their season tickets to entertain clients, Managua’s Dennis Martinez Stadium is home to passionate and lively fans. These fans were even able to start their own cheers without being prompted by stadium graphics or audio effects. Food venders offered a variety of traditional Nicaraguan delicacies. Somehow we passed on fried pig skin, some cheese wrapped in tortillas and doused in heavy cream, and an assortment of fried plantains. We did purchase two oranges for about 15 cents each. Other vendors hawked all sorts of crazy items. Our favorite was definitely the guy who sold whistles and felt the need to prove that his products functioned every 10 seconds.

The game itself was fairly entertaining, although in such a sensory-rich environment it sometimes took on a secondary role. Boer, Managua’s team, lost to San Fernando, Masaya’s representative, 8-5. The quality of baseball was good, but not great. I would say it was equivalent to Single A or AA minor league ball. I quickly pegged Boer’s Clyde Williams, a gringo, as my favorite player since I have seen him twice around town.

I really enjoyed the game and am looking forward to attending more in the future. Baseball gave me a little taste of home, but certainly with a Nicaraguan flavor.

I talked with our friend Keren. She is going to go with me on Wednesday morning to try to set up a way to get the kids into school. Very exciting!

Day Trip

2007-11-11T07:47:00.000-06:00

New Pics Posted: http://www.flickr.com/photos/dwnicaragua

Yesterday I went on a day trip organized by our language school. Sadly, Lauren was feeling a bit too ill to join me so I took a cab to the school alone.

Our first stop was in Masaya, where we walked through the famous outdoor market. It was pretty interesting but I think that I prefer the Huembes market here in Managua. We then traveled to Mombacho volcano to do some hiking. It was quite different from Volcan Masaya, the volcano I visited a few weekends ago. While Volcan Masaya was very dry and barren Mombacho was plush with beautiful vegetation. I felt like I was hiking through a forest rather than on a volcano. Also, Volcan Masaya was clearly very active, as it was impossible to miss the gigantic brewing crater. Mombacho is also active although the only indications of such were a few vents spewing some hot, humid air.

Hiking around the volcano was fun, but the highlight of the day was certainly going on a zipline course. Seven of us enjoyed a beautiful decent down the volcano strapped in harnesses. In typical Nicaraguan fashion there were no release forms to sign or thorough safety instructions. Before I knew it I was flying down the line towards the next station. I really enjoyed the 17-station course. The views were beautiful and one of the guides took some cool pictures and a great video.

After the zipline we stopped by Granada for a bit before returning home. It was a fun day. The sites were enjoyable and I took pleasure in meeting the other language students and hearing their stories. No one here ends up by accident so it’s always interesting to find out why people are in Managua. I met this Canadian guy who is interning with a microfinance firm. He loves his work, but after hearing that he spends his days in an office looking at charts and writing reports I became glad that my volunteer position with a microfinance firm fell through. Although his work is certainly very valuable and interesting, I will likely spend my working years behind a desk at home, so it’s nice to get out and experience some other things while I’m here.

I’m not sure if my body or my mind is having a harder time becoming accustomed to “Nica Time.” A key difference between Western culture and Nicaraguan culture is the value placed on punctuality. At home, if something is supposed to start at 6pm, it usually does. If it starts at 6:05 or 6:10 we complain. Nicaraguans seem to have a more relaxed interpretation of timekeeping. As a Type-A guy I often have difficulty conforming to their standards. For example, we were supposed to return to the Spanish school between 4-5pm yesterday and actually got back a little after 7pm. Our guide made no apologies or even commented on the 2-3 hour lateness. In addition, we were served lunch (a white-bread sandwich with a piece of unidentifiable meat and some creamy red spread) at 4:45pm(!). Between my love for scheduling and eating every 3 hours it was a challenging day! Nica time…

Today I am going to go to a baseball game in town and then hopefully watch the Ravens if they are on tv. Hopefully they will show up this game.

A Breakthrough

2007-11-09T17:31:00.001-06:00

With the help of my friends Abdhie and Keren I was able to communicate with the kids and their families today. What a privilege. I am realizing how much I take communication for granted.

We all had lunch together, during which Abdhie and Keren translated my numerous questions. I also asked them to tell the kids a little about me so they could get a better idea of why this gringo shows up every day to hang out with them.

The lunch was fun although Ninoska did not join us. Supposedly there is a bit of a rift right now between her family and Sonia’s. Although (maybe I should say ‘Because’) the mothers are sisters they don’t always get along. Through Abdhie and Keren I was told that Ninoska felt bad because Sonia’s mother (Ninoska’s aunt) had asked me for money for a new bed. Ninoska felt like she was taking advantage of me, and was thus so upset with Sonia that she didn’t want to come to lunch. We saw Ninoska afterwards though, and I told her, through Abdhie and Keren, that I really missed having her at lunch and that she has to come on Monday. She said she would think about it.

After lunch we all went back to the street on which they all work. Sonia’s mother sells sunglasses while her father sells car accessories and the kids wash windows.

Although I am glad that we are able to have lunch together every day I want to help the kids in a more long-lasting manner. I recognize the importance of allowing them a few hours of childhood every day, but I also want to assist them grow out of this poverty more permanently. The only idea I’ve had so far is to send them to a better school. Education would be a great investment for the kids. Not only will it allow them to hopefully have better jobs and escape the cycle of poverty, but it also gets them off the street during the day. The kids have been telling me that they go to school in the mornings and then work in the afternoon. If only we could find a full-day school…

I also want to find a way to help the parents earn a better living. If they have better jobs they will be able to provide better lives for the kids. My inspiration for this idea comes from some microfinance cases I have read. Perhaps the classic example is loaning a woman money to buy a washing machine so she can start a small laundry business. The details of such endeavors clearly differ between cases, but the constant of providing people with means to achieve self-sustenance remains.

Abdhie, Keren, the parents, and I had a chance to talk. Abdhie and Keren told Sonia’s parents about the plan to get the kids in a better school than the one they are currently attend. At this point the father told us that the kids don’t go to school now. Now they are on the street all day, every day. He said they were in school but dropped out because they couldn’t afford it. This was a heartbreaking revelation for me. For about a month now the kids have been telling me about their school, even answering my questions of “what did you learn today?” and “do you have much homework?” To find out that they felt they had to lie to cover up for their poverty was so hard to hear.

The parents were receptive to our plan. They knew of a Catholic school near their house which, they think, costs about $20/person/month. Keren explained that we would try to arrange to pay the school directly for their tuitions. Keren had the brilliant idea of also offering a small amount of money – perhaps $25/month – to the parents to make up for the lost income from the kids’ labor. The father seemed pleased with these suggestions, noting that if the kids were in school and if they received this money his wife could remain at home. Keren thought it would be best to refrain from mentioning any further ideas I had to help the parents as we didn’t want to overwhelm them.

The plan is to go to the school on Monday or Tuesday with the father and one of my friends who can translate to discuss this possibility. They kids wouldn’t be able to start classes until the next semester starts in January, but it seems best to get the ball rolling as soon as possible.

I am so excited that there might be a way to tangibly help the kids in a more long-term way. My ultimate goal is to see them go to college. If they could achieve this, they will certainly have exponentially greater chances of making better lives for themselves. This goal is a long way off, though, and I am trying not to get too far ahead of myself.

I am hopeful that next week we will be able to work something out with the school they want to attend. I am almost giddy about today’s occurrences. I am trying to temper my excitement because, being Nicaragua, I doubt that this process will be smooth and easy. I think it’s a real possibility, however.

The constant question I’ve been thinking about since my arrival is; ‘What does God have in store for me here?’ Although I still don’t have a firm answer I believe I got a small taste of one today. As we were saying our goodbyes to the parents I had Keren tell them how much I’ve enjoyed getting to know the kids and spend time with them. The father told us that he thinks that us meeting each other is a “God thing.” I couldn’t agree more.

Extreme Nica

2007-11-07T21:54:00.000-06:00

Another day, more manifestations of common Nicaraguan themes. Perhaps the hardest to avoid is the inseparable relationship of extremes, particularly regarding the scale of wealth. Granted, every place on Earth has both rich and poor people, but I have not seen wealth and poverty coexist in such close proximity to each other like I have here.

My time with the kids is a good example of this tumultuous marriage. Before I come each day they spend their time washing car windshields, begging for a Cordoba or two. Then, for about an hour and a half or two hours each day, they have lunch and hang out with me. Juxtaposing merely their physical locations, the street and the Western-style mall, allows one to see this dichotomy. Although the mall and the street on which they work are a mere 200 yards apart, the figurative distance is virtually infinite. This, alone, is a striking comparison.

What I think is more interesting, though, is comparing their responsibilities. For most of the day they are forced to be adults, forgoing the innocence and joy of childhood and facing poverty head-on. For a few hours each day, though, they can simply be kids. I’m encouraged that they still maintain the ability to have fun, be silly, and cause some trouble in the midst of their situations. Watching them eat their lunches, wear their goofy hats, play on the mechanical toys, and scream for ice cream reminds me that they have still are just kids.

Spending time with Ninoska today provided a poignant tangible example of this abstract notion. Initially she refused to join us for lunch, saying she had to keep working. Eventually she caved, however. She is usually the most overtly happy kid, but today she wouldn’t touch her food and spent the meal with her head buried in her arms on the table. My repeated questioning of what was wrong was always met with her simply shaking her head.

I got Kevin to explain her sadness, though. He told me that she wants to go to school tomorrow, but doesn’t have the 100 Cordobas (approx $5.50) for the month of school. While all of the other kids are attending school Ninoska has not been this fall, claiming that her school doesn’t offer her grade until January.

Armed with this knowledge I tried to ask Ninoska about the issue but realized that she didn’t want to talk about it. Although my Spanish is clearly very limited I tried to tell her that I think education is very important and that I wanted to help her go to school. She repeatedly told me that I spend too much money on her already and that she was sorry, but she couldn’t allow me to help.

With my heart broken (another common theme) I pushed hard only to find my efforts repulsed with equally-strong determination. Eventually she offered a compromise – she would accept my money if I agreed not to buy her lunch tomorrow. Finally I got her to accept, very unwillingly, the money and lunch tomorrow. Hopefully she can go to school tomorrow. I'm not confident in my interpretation of the situation, though, so we'll see.

Ninoska’s situation is a perfect representation of the result of the clash between her fleeting youth and prematurely-developed adulthood. She is selfless to a fault; not wanting to receive my assistance even though I sincerely want to give it to her. At the same time, though, she is still a child so naturally she allowed her emotions to get the best of her. Today’s events demonstrated how these two extremes of development can truly coexist.

On a lighter note, here are some less-intense highlights of the past few days:

-I went to the market today after lunch. I got a haircut (for about $1.50), bought some gifts, and drank some juice out of a plastic bag after ripping it open with my teeth.

-Yesterday a father-son team of clowns performed on my bus. It was very entertaining despite the fact that I understood about 7% of their skit. Bus performers are not uncommon here. Many give some sort of monologue then go around asking for a Cordoba. Sometimes I encounter guys preaching the Bible out loud, too.

-I forced myself to sit through the painful Ravens’ game Monday night. I could probably devote another whole blogsite to my opinions on the Ravens but, for your sake, I will merely say that if Billick doesn’t turn to Boller this weekend I will be quite upset.

-I somehow managed to pass my Level III Spanish test.

-Yesterday I found out that a coffee shop I go to sometimes offers delicious salads. I thoroughly enjoyed eating fresh vegetables.

-We will be home one week from tomorrow. We’re excited to see everyone!

Determining "Enough"

2007-11-07T07:02:00.000-06:00

Started on Saturday, 11/3, finished Sunday, 11/4

I’m writing this as we swerve all over the road trying to avoid potholes on the way to San Juan del Sur, supposedly one of Nicaragua’s best beaches. Lauren’s sister and brother-in-law, Jane and John, are planning on going to Spanish school there in a few months so they generously offered to pay for our hotel if we went down and checked it out. We didn’t have any plans for the weekend so we decided to go.

I’m pretty sure we got scammed at the bus station. As soon as our cab stopped a man resembling a Nicaraguan Gene Nichol (WM’s President) asked where we were going and aggressively directed us to a bus. I tried to make our desire to take a direct bus to San Juan clear but I’m pretty sure we’re on a bus to Rivas, from which we’ll have to take a short taxi to San Juan. After escorting us onto the bus the man stood in front of me demanding una propina (a tip). It’s not a big deal if we have to go to Rivas, though. I’ll count this as a learning experience. (My feeling was correct – our bus went to Rivas and we caught a taxi to the beach).

I’m just glad that we got a bus that will (hopefully) lead us in the right direction. As is to be expected in Nicaragua, the bus station is far from organized or easy to navigate. While the lack of order frustrates the mind, the abundance of street vendors selling food, crafts, and newspapers provides a colorful scene quite pleasing to the eye. All of the commotion gives the setting a chaotic ambience – a setting I’m becoming quite familiar with.

It’s amazing how quickly the dirty, noisy city of Managua disappeared. Within 20 minutes of leaving the bus stop we found ourselves staring out at a beautiful variety of vegetation. Nicaragua is certainly a country of many extremes, with this clear distinction between city and country being the latest example to add to the list.

Despite the clear differences between urban Managua and the countryside, poverty remains a sad and ever-present constant. Like a chameleon, poverty seems to survey its present circumstances and adapt accordingly. While poor kids in Managua favor washing car windshields for money we’ve driven past several groups of kids who use shovels to fill in the aforementioned potholes, then stand by their work with a hand extended towards passing cars. I had the thought that the little kids I just saw could have easily been the kids I hang out with in Managua. Confronting poverty becomes much more uncomfortable when it has faces and names.

Recently I’ve been thinking about the point at which I can, without hesitation, release myself from attempting to give and serve. I’ll try to explain. As someone who’s been blessed abundantly I feel an obligation and, more importantly, a desire to try to bless others. I believe that God calls us to serve others not out of sense of duty, but because He wants us to experience the true, pure joy that comes with giving. I knew that I’ve been given resources – the more important being love – that I am called to share. That’s what I’m trying to do here.

All of that being said, however, I recognize that I cannot try to help everyone I see. This notion has been made quite clear to me here, where need is omnipresent. When is it okay to say “no?” For every child I give money to I probably say no to five. How should I choose which beggars to give money to? How many kids to take to lunch? What do to with my finances? When to return to the States?

I know myself well enough to admit that I am not strong enough to give as much as I ideally would. I would love to see myself spending all day with people in need, even living with them in their neighborhoods. In order to avoid burning out, though, I concede that I need a clean, safe place to sleep and some semi-normal food every day. I am also unwilling to give up easy access to the internet, which allows me to stay in touch with everyone I love.

The first conclusion that I’ve come to is that this question is often driven by guilt and self-imposed pressure. If I feel like I should be doing more I am probably feeling guilty that I’m not. I don’t think that God is too fond of using guilt to bring about change. He seems to prefer compassion. Guilt traps, compassion liberates. It I was purely motivated by a desire to serve I would not worry about this question, instead I would strictly think about how to best love people.

I don’t think there is anything wrong with indulging in some luxuries – I am writing these words on the bus back from a weekend at the beach – as long as one’s heart is set on loving the Lord and others better. To get caught up in this issue would be a detriment to my mission here, assuming my heart is in the right place.

Those are my only conclusions so far. I’d love to hear if anyone has anything to say on the matter, as I am quite far from being an authority on this, or any, issue. Thanks for reading.

Back in Managua

2007-11-06T06:41:00.000-06:00

From Monday, November 5th

I think that I’m appreciating our beach weekend even more today than I did during the trip. I am feeling quite recharged and refreshed. Lesson learned.

I had a good Spanish class this morning. I finished with Level 3 – tomorrow we will review and then I will attempt to pass the test sometime soon. Assuming I do (a risky choice) I will make a little progress into Level 4 this week.

After class I met the kids for lunch. Sonia, Lionardo, Isac, and Kevin (I received some corrections in spelling their names today) joined me. Ninoska had to stay outside and work. It was really hard to go inside, knowing she was out there, but the kids insisted on it and we agreed to bring her food afterwards.

Perhaps due to my rejuvenation I asked the kids lots of questions about their lives today. Somehow they understood my Spanish well enough to give me some answers. I found out that both fathers are present in their lives; a fact that surprised me as they had never previously mentioned them. One is a security guard and one sells things on the street near his mother’s sunglasses stand. Each family lives in its own house about a 40 minute bus ride from Metrocentro. There are more kids in each family than just the ones I have lunch with.

After a great lunch and ice cream I took the buses home. My first bus, the 119, was ridiculously crowded so I squeezed myself into the crowd for the 7-minute ride. Although I don’t like to be touched I’ve conceded that my personal-space requirement will rarely be met on the buses. As is often I found myself jostled around amongst the crowd. Many people got off at the stop before mine so I was able to claim a little more room.

At this time I realized that my phone was missing from my pocket. I looked around but I knew that the thief had likely just gotten off, and I did not have the heart to accuse the old grandmother next to me. I will admit that I was pretty mad for a bit. It’s not a big deal – I can get another phone for under $20 – but I think the concept hurt me more than losing the phone. I took some time to get myself together and now I am feeling fine about it. It’s just a phone. I am lucky to have one in the first place, and extremely lucky to have the resources to replace it so easily.

Back to the good stuff.

I was so glad to learn more about the kids. I was thinking on the way back from the beach of ways I can help. I came to the conclusion that helping 2 families should really be quite easy. I have been blessed beyond all measure, including with an amazingly supportive family and group of friends. Between my resources and others generosity I’m sure that something can be done to lift these two beautiful families to a better place in life. The problem is now figuring out what to do.

I’ve been interested in microfinance, in essence giving poor people access to small loans, ever since my good friend Kevin Newton introduced it to me last year. The idea has been quite successful in developing countries, allowing those in need to set up self-sustaining business projects. Why can’t I do something like that here with these two families? Really, it should be simple. Success depends on merely connecting the two parts of the equation – their need and access to resources. This would also provide a more long-term solution to their poverty.

I am going to get one of my bilingual friends to come one day so we can have a real conversation. I first want to see if there is a better school, preferably full-day, to which the kids can go. I also want to find out how I can help the parents. Getting them better jobs would be a much more effective solution than just giving them money.

These are just some thoughts that have been running through my mind recently. Fighting poverty on a global scale is understandably quite daunting. Even viewing the issue on a countrywide, citywide, or even block-wide basis is intimidating. Two families, though, seems like a reasonable endeavor.

Assuming this can be done, what impact really will be made? It’s just two families out of thousands. And what makes those families more deserving than others? While I haven’t heard these questions yet they are, I believe, worth having answers to. Yes, helping two out of thousands is not very “efficient” or even cost-effective. The thing to remember is that that we’re talking about people not statistics. Even if my entire four months here resulted in one person’s life improving slightly, I would consider it a success. To deem it a failure on account of not being worthwhile is, in effect, saying that my life is more valuable than those whom I’m here with.

I say all of this not in response to any criticism or questions I have encountered. I have received nothing but love and support from everyone I know, and for that I am beyond thankful. Instead I am speaking to myself, and my need to always maximize my efficiency. I figure if I put this out there in writing I will at least have a few people who can remind me that the issues at hand are people’s lives, not economics.

Beautiful Beach Weekend

2007-11-04T21:22:00.000-06:00

Pictures from the beach are posted: http://www.flickr.com/photos/dwnicaragua

We’re back from a great weekend at San Juan del Sur, a beautiful beach town about 3 hours from Managua. We didn’t realize how refreshing and needed the break from the city was until we had a chance to really relax in San Juan.

Saturday morning we took a bus from Managua to Rivas, a town quite close to San Juan, and then a taxi for the final 30 minutes to the beach. We enjoyed a delicious lunch in a beachfront restaurant, giving me an opportunity to satisfy my craving for fresh seafood. Afterwards we walked around the town, checking out Spanish schools for Lauren’s sister and brother-in-law and finding a hotel. Our selection – the Villa Isabella – was 2 blocks; about a 3 minute walk, from the beach. Perfect. We dropped our bags and caught a few hours of sun before having yet another tasty oceanfront meal. Finally, we retreated to the hotel and read our books in hammock-seats before bed.

The town of San Juan del Sur is quite small. To give you a scale – our hotel was just about on the eastern edge of town and the beach is on the far west side. The area closest to the beach caters mostly towards tourists and consists primarily of hotels, restaurants, bars, and Spanish schools. We were surprised at the amount of gringos we saw. It was quite a difference from Managua. We both commented that we didn’t receive the ‘what are you doing here?’ stares that are part of our daily routines in Managua. The beach directly at San Juan del Sur is nice, although not exceptional. However, it was perfect for us. Supposedly there are much better beaches nearby and hopefully next time we go we will visit them.

Although the town is touristy it retains much of its Nicaraguan charm. The road to the town is perhaps the worst road I’ve ever been on. I am glad I don’t get motion sickness, as the potholes we encountered would have surely done the trick. In town street vendors still attempt to sell their goods – ceramics, bootleg dvds, nuts, fried plantain chips, and jewelry, among other things, as they do in Managua. They even come into the restaurants and walk around trying to make a sale. Today at lunch we had three vendors approach us within five minutes of sitting down. We saw a man carrying a plastic horse from a carousel on his shoulder today, eliciting another “Nicaragua...” and smiles from both of us. The things people sell here can be ridiculous.

Our day started with a wonderful breakfast at our hotel. I enjoyed some chocolate-banana pancakes while Lauren opted for merely the banana version. Then we hit the beach for about 3 hours. The sun is more intense here in the morning than in the afternoons, so by about 11:45am we were ready to go back and shower. We had one last great meal in a beachfront restaurant before finding a bus and heading home.

The bus ride back was, in Nicaraguan fashion, entertaining. We weren’t able to take an express bus back, meaning our bus made about 7,000 stops along the way. This allowed food vendors a chance to board the bus and offer their items for sale. At one point there were 5 vendors walking down the aisle with their food announcing their products. The bus had a festival-like feel. Although I was able to resist the lure of soda in a plastic sandwich bag I wasn’t strong enough to turn down a Nicaraguan snoball for about 30 cents. It was good although I prefer Snoasis. We finally made it home about 4 hours later.

It was so nice to have a chance to leave the city this weekend. I feel quite recharged for the last week and a half we’re here before we go home for weddings and Thanksgiving.

We really appreciated the luxury. I did some writing on the bus, if I am able to read my handwriting I will type it up sometime soon.

Much love,

Off to the Beach

2007-11-03T08:04:00.000-06:00

Good morning! Lauren and I are heading off to the beach at San Juan del Sur in a few minutes but I wanted to give a quick update before we leave.

Yesterday I had class and then a good lunch with the kids. The younger kids (Ysaac and Leonardo) were at home so just the four older kids (Carlos, Kevin, Ninoska, and Sonia) were there. I think not having the younger kids there allowed the older kids some freedom since they didn't have to worry about looking after their younger siblings. We had lots of fun and Sonia(!) announced to everyone else that they could choose either a ride or ice cream after lunch. We didn't have any trouble with that issue yesterday.

The kids really missed Nefret. They asked me about her repeatedly and made me promise to tell her how much they love her. It's amazing the impact she had on the kids in just a few days.

After lunch I went to Compassion for two reasons. First, they called me back on Thursday and needed email addresses for my references, so I delivered them. Second, I wanted to talk with someone about getting the kids involved in the Compassion program, where they can be sponsored and receive education, basic heath care, food, and a safe place to go. I don't know whether this will work out - I just read that the kids must be between the ages of 3-9 - but if not maybe they can give me the name of another organization which can help them. Maybe at least Leonardo and Ysaac can get involved.

Ok, off to the beach. We will be home tomorrow (Sun) at some point, and I will try to blog then. Hope you have a great weekend!

Goodbye, Nefret

2007-11-01T22:02:00.000-06:00

I will start this update by offering three phrases I have repeated several times throughout this blog. First, Nicaragua breaks my heart. Second, I feel helpless quite frequently, which often leads to frustration. Third, life here is full of lots of ups and downs.

Today was tough. After class I walked to Metrocentro to meet Nefret and the kids. Two of the young boys ran up to me and starting speaking very excitedly and quickly. The only words I made out were “accident,” “bus,” and “Kevin.” Thankfully my fears were quickly scattered when Kevin ran around the corner. It turns out that the kids watched a man get his leg run over by a bus this morning in their neighborhood. Even though I couldn’t understand the vast majority of what the kids were saying the details sounded grisly. I am reporting all of this because all of the kids, understandably, seemed quite shaken up by the event, and were acting a bit unusual from the beginning of our time together.

We had a great lunch together – primarily because the kids absolutely ADORE Nefret. I don’t blame them, since she is so wonderful with them, and can actually converse with them in Spanish. She is a natural with the children. Everyone enjoyed another delicious meal from Tip-Top. Yum.

The trouble started after lunch. As we spend more time together I am realizing that I need to have a more structured relationship with them. I am becoming less of an ‘uncle who they see once a year and can spoil them,’ and more of an ‘older brother who has to say “no” and establish some guidelines in order to maintain a healthy relationship.’

Recently we’ve been occasionally riding the kiddie rides or getting ice cream after lunch. They’ve never asked to do both on the same day, though, so when they did today I felt it would be beneficial for everyone if I offered them a choice of rides or ice cream. Nefret told them their options and the two younger boys, Leonardo and Ysaac, chose the rides while Kevin and Ninoska wanted ice cream. Sonia told us she didn’t want either. The boys rode their rides and, as we all were leaving, we bought ice cream for Kevin and Ninoska.

Leonardo and Sonia immediately became silent, obviously upset that Kevin and Ninoska got ice cream while they did not. We had a tense walk out of the mall, with Kevin and Ninoska in front happily eating their ice cream, followed by Leonardo, Sonia, and Ysaac all pouting to various degrees.

The kids walked with us up the street for a bit, and insisted on crossing the highway via the overhead walkway with us. Emotions and tension were both running quite high at this point. The kids were dealing with the accident they witnessed earlier, the ice cream episode, and, most importantly, Nefret’s departure.

The ten minutes we waited for the bus were ten of the longest minutes I’ve experienced in a long time. Sonia and Leonardo refused to talk to us, despite Nefret’s repeated questioning of, “what’s wrong?” Kevin and Ninoska were fine, although they, too, didn’t know how to react to their amigos’ behavior. Ysaac brought both Nefret and I much fear by refusing to come down from the extremely dangerous walkway. Despite our pleas the little guy kept putting his head through the restraining bars, causing us to picture him falling onto the highway below. Sonia and Leonardo told us that they weren’t even coming to lunch tomorrow. We knew that they would leave as soon as we got on a bus, and although we hated saying goodbye, we knew the 119’s arrival was a positive development.

The day was frustrating for many reasons. I think, for me, the most maddening aspect was my inability to understand what was going on in the kids’ heads. This failure to communicate ran deeper than merely language barriers; I’m not sure I would have been able to understand if they could speak English or I could speak better Spanish. I just wanted to know what was wrong and why they were so upset. I am confident that their moods and behavior could not be explained by simply not getting ice cream.

These kids live such tough lives that it’s easy to forget that they are, indeed, still kids. As my girlfriend Emily put it this evening, “they have been forced to grow up way too quickly, but are still kids, so it makes sense that they aren’t always mature enough to handle certain situations.”

Nefret and I were upset that her final goodbye had to occur the way it did, as she will likely never see them again. We talked this afternoon about how heartbreaking the situation was. We were delighted when Sonia called this evening and apologized to Nefret. I am glad because I assume her apology means she is coming tomorrow.

I know that I am not doing the scene justice with these words. I was mad not at the kids, but at their circumstances. Sure, they were hard to deal with today, but how can I look at the ridiculous lifestyles they are forced to live and not feel compassion?

This entry is scattered and perhaps illogical, I know, but I think it reflects the day quite well. I don’t even know how I really feel right now. Again, I wish I could say all of our interactions with the kids were fun, light, and easy. People are much more complicated than that, though, especially kids. I just wish I could do more to help. I think the best thing I can do right now is continue to show up, speak bad Spanish, buy them lunch, and give them a break from the streets for an hour and a half every day. Hopefully I can provide something for them to look forward to and a positive sense of stability.

Lauren had an eventful day as well. She spent the day at the hospital comforting one of her orphans who broke his arm in 3 places. I give her lots of credit for dealing with significant language issues and a hurting child at the same time.

We’re about to take Nefret to the airport. It’s been so great having her here. She was so awesome with the kids and a real blessing to Lauren and me as well.

Daniel Bain Article

2007-11-01T15:15:00.000-06:00

I got to talk with Daniel Bain, who works at La Chureca, last week and wrote this article about him. Hope you enjoy - he is an incredible guy.

Daniel Bain stands out in Nicaragua. His 6’5” frame and white skin do not lead many to mistake him for being Nicaraguan. However, he stands out for more than just his physical characteristics. Daniel works for Light, Live, and Melody – a non-profit organization which is, according to its website, “dedicated to battling the physical, emotional, and spiritual affects of extreme poverty found” in what’s known as “La Chureca;” the city of Managua’s trash dump. Close to 800 people reside there, sifting through garbage for a living.

Daniel became involved in Nicaragua in July of 2005 as a volunteer with Manna Project International after graduating that year from the University of Southern California. Living and working in a community of recent college grads from the US, Daniel built relationships with Nicaraguans, primarily children, through educational and literacy programs. During this time Daniel became familiar with La Chureca and began to establish friendships with many of its children and families. After working with Manna for two years Daniel knew that he wanted to continue his work in Nicaragua, reflecting, “I knew that God wasn’t done with me yet.”

His road to working with Light, Love, and Melody started when he met Brad Corrigan, the drummer from the band Dispatch, last fall. Brad fell in love with the people of La Chureca when, while in Managua visiting an orphanage he helped raise funds for, he ended up there after asking his cab driver to take him to a poor neighborhood. Once exposed to the horrors of La Chureca, Brad decided to help.

He started a girls’ home in September, 2006, giving some of the children a break from living in what many have described as “hell.” Daniel visited the home multiple times and found it to be a, “place of joy.” “It was crazy how much I began to love those girls. God taught me about His love, particularly that however much I loved them, He loved them, and me, even more,” he recalled.

Following his two years with Manna, Daniel felt called to remain in Nicaragua, specifically in La Chureca. While most Nicaraguans purposely avoid the area, Daniel does not want to be anywhere else.

Working with Love, Light, and Melody gives Daniel opportunities to practice a true ministry of presence. Currently he is focused on three or four families, with whom he strives to simply share life. While building relationships with these families Daniel attempts to offer love, hope for a better future, and possibly a way out of the dump.

Many of La Chureca’s families are in turmoil, not surprisingly considering their living conditions. Child prostitution, drug and alcohol abuse, and domestic violence are rampant. Although basic in principle, Daniel’s work is far from simple in reality. “I don’t know what to say to a mom when she tells me her husband is beating her,” he said.

Tragically, yet understandably, a cycle of low self-worth casts a strong hold over the children of La Chureca. Without knowing or believing themselves worthy of any other options, many children passively submit to the many of the dark temptations easily available. For this reason, Daniel tries to foster “restoration and reconciliation of families.” Children in strong, stable families are far less likely to fall victim to the horrible cycle.

In addition to continuing to spend time with the families, Daniel aims to connect with relief organizations which work outside of La Chureca. Doing so, he says, will create opportunities for residents of La Chureca to get help and vocational training. With proper instruction these individuals will have the skills they need to escape the madness of what they now call home.

Daniel’s love for the families he works with is evident in the passion with which he describes them. His commitment is equally as clear, as he claims to have no plans to leave Nicaragua in the foreseeable future. He commented, “I’m ready to see their hearts change. I’m excited to see the kids grow up and have families.”

Quick Post

2007-10-31T18:27:00.000-06:00

We are going to lose power and then meet our friend Tommy, Ruthie's fiance, in a little bit but I wanted to at least post a quick update on today's adventures.

All three of us went to the Huembes Market this morning. Nefret wanted to pick up some gifts and Lauren and I thought we might find some cool things to send back with her as well. We took the bus there and shopped for about an hour before Lauren took a taxi to work and Nefret and I took the bus back home.

Lauren told me that there were only 3 kids at the orphanage today - the rest were either "out looking for a new school" or "being punished," as the story seemed to change throughout the day. Hopefully she will find out more tomorrow.

Nefret and I had a great lunch with the street kids. Nefret got a chance to talk with Ninoska for a long time while I went with the other kids to play on the rides. Turns out Ninoska isn't going to school right now because her school doesn't currently offer her grade. She says her classes will resume in January. Her dad is a security guard in Masaya and she only gets to see him once a week. although it is good to learn a little bit more about her I now just want to know more. We gave the kids a big bag of candy for Halloween, which they seemed to enjoy.

After lunch Nefret and I went and got my ID made to enter all of the baseball stadiums, and all of the LNBP (Nicaraguan Professional Baseball League) games, for free. The journalist I met yesterday, Gerald, told the ID office that I work for the Baltimore Sun. Now I have this hilarious press pass with my picture, name, and "Baltimore Sun" on it. I love it. The season just started so hopefully I will go to some games soon. I was just looking on the website - turns out my boy Gerald made the page with the schedule. This is a crazy country.

Gerald emailed me late last night and repeated his desire to help the kids. I emailed him back this afternoon to thank him for the pass and to ask him when we could meet to talk. I hope we can do that soon.

Ok, we are about to lose power and then go see Tommy, but I hope everyone is well. I'll write more soon.

Much love,
dw

No soy gringa! (but these are some Gringa thoughts)

2007-10-30T21:49:00.000-06:00

Hello! I am honored to join the cyber world as the guest blogger for Dylan and Lauren’s blog. Though I have to say I have never blogged before, I am excited for this opportunity to share with you my experiences so far in Nicaragua. I have only been here for 4 days, and I am sad that I have only 2 left! It has been wonderful to be here, and I encourage all readers of this blog to quickly buy a ticket and come for a visit. Dylan and Lauren have built a wonderful life for themselves here, a life of generosity and sincere thankfulness that is not about them, but about the people of Nicaragua. They have managed to do things I only wish I had the courage to do; the more I stay with them, the more I am impressed by their presence and love for the people they encounter while living here.

Today I had the wonderful opportunity to visit Lauren’s orphanage. It was an especially exciting day, however, because an organization called Frontier Horizon (Dylan traveled with this group a couple summers ago) brought the orphans to a beautiful resort in Granada for some good food, some soda and ice cream, and of course many hours swimming in the pool. I can not tell you the excitement boiling over in the van as we drove to the resort with the kids screaming at the top of their lungs: “Ayyy! Piscina!” (translation: “Ayyy! Pool!”). I was overwhelmed by their excitement. When we got there, the kids had a blast.

I don’t think I have ever seen children having so much fun doing the same thing for such a long time. They were content with what they were given, and they never wanted more. Nobody even asked for ice cream. It was offered to them, and though they were thankful to receive it, they were not looking for it, nor did they ever whine for more. It is unheard of that 10 children in a pool would not fight, but not one tear was shed. They only wanted to be cuddled and loved and thrown around in the pool. They eagerly offered this to one another by taking care of each other, feeding each other, playing with each other in the pool like siblings who can overlook any rivalry. Through blatant contrast, I was reminded of some of the kids I baby sit for at home; they always want to do something else…they are never content with one activity, one soda, one candy. It’s never enough; they always want more. If it means taking down their sibling in a fistfight, they will do what they can to make sure they get more.

As I played with the orphans in the pool, I was convicted. Do I live like that? Always wanting more and never being satisfied with what I have? Within that conviction, I realized there is a poverty that exists within me and within the culture of the United States. It’s a different kind of poverty, with a different face, nameless to those who buy into it: it lies to us, telling us we can never have enough, that we will be happier, more beautiful, cooler if we just have a little more. As I sat in the sun with my new friend, 3 year old Katherine, I was humbled. Today was my first day hanging out with these orphans, and they had already taught me so much in the few hours I knew them. Even though it is clear their lives are hard and they are poor, I was starting to see how wealthy they really are. Their wealth is not of materials or money, because, unlike me, they do not subscribe to the lie that there is never enough. Even though they are just kids, they practice their wealth in the form of an ideal I claim to uphold to the very highest degree, more in mere talk than in actual walk: elementary kindness. They are rich in ideals we can not afford to forget: thankfulness, generosity, and a non-cliché, very sincere love.

Much love,

Nefret

Hello! This is Lauren - I am interrupting Nefret's blog to let you know that I have loaded some pictures from todays adventures. You might have to scroll through some other orphanage pictures to get to them - but I promise they are there. Here's the link:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/15927088@N07/

A Good Day

2007-10-30T17:33:00.001-06:00

Pictures from our lunch are posted: http://www.flickr.com/photos/dwnicaragua

If I had to describe today’s events, and in fact my whole Nicaraguan experience thus far, I would say the following: First, Nicaragua is unpredictable. Second, God is definitely and clearly at work here.

I took the buses to Metrocentro to have lunch with the kids. I didn’t get off the bus until the stop following Metrocentro, meaning I rode past the kids as they were working on the other side of the street. I’ve seen them at work before but it still breaks my heart. Only Ninoska, Sonia, Leonardo, and Kevin joined me today. I haven’t seen Carlos or Milton in quite some time. The other kids keep telling me they are at school. We made sure to order extra food for the kids to take to them, though. They were disappointed that Nefret wasn’t going to join us but were pleased to hear she would be back tomorrow.

We enjoyed a nice lunch at Tip-Top. I was thrilled to discover a non-fried option – an iceberg salad with some grilled chicken – and the kids got their usual 3-piece combos. I talked with Ninoska about her school. She told me all of the classes she takes and also that they take the bus to out front of Metrocentro after school so they can wash windshields. Like yesterday, everyone was upbeat, friendly, and engaging.

We sat down and I noticed a young white couple, whom we had seen at the airport on Thursday, sitting at the table next to us. I didn’t really think anything of seeing them again other than it was quite coincidental. Every time I see another “gringo” I wonder what his story is.

As we were cleaning up a well-dressed Nicaraguan man came up to me and asked me if I speak Spanish. When I told him I only speak a little bit he sat down and started talking very slowly with me. He told me that he recognized the kids I was with from the street and asked if I was with them on behalf of an organization. I told him I wasn’t, and he responded that he wanted to help and asked me how he could do so. Recognizing the limitations in my Spanish I decided that offering him my email address and phone number might be the best option. As I was writing, he asked me if I like baseball. Clearly I responded that I did, and he told me he was going to help get me an ID to enter the stadium. He then told me he is a sports journalist who works for both the local paper and the LNBP, the Nicaraguan professional baseball league. He also told me that the white guy who was sitting next to me, who at this point had gone, was Clyde Williams, an American baseball star here in Nicaragua. Bizarre.

If you want to, check out this story from ESPN.com about Clyde Williams. There is a video of him getting a cab right outside of Metrocentro, where I meet the kids every day.

At this point I didn’t really know what was going on or what to think. He then started saying things that I did not understand. Eventually I grasped that he wants me to go to a place to get an ID tomorrow, and that he is going to contact me soon to talk about helping the kids. Beyond that, I don’t really know what he said. I plan on going to the place to get an ID tomorrow. In Nicaragua anything goes. There is a chance, granted a very very small one, that this encounter turns into something really cool, so I figure I’ll give it a shot. I got on Google this afternoon and found some of his articles, coincidentally, about Clyde Williams.

The kids were quite patient with me during this encounter. After Mr. Hernandez left we went over to the play area next to the restaurants. I haven’t seen the kids happier than they were for the 20 minutes or so we rode the rides and took lots of pictures. In stark contrast to last Friday, I haven’t seen them smile this much, ever. And to think this is because we played on the kiddy rides and took pictures.

After we left the mall we met up with both of the kids’ (they are all either brothers/sisters of cousins) moms. They insisted that I hold their babies and then took many pictures of us. They thanked me for taking the kids to lunch. I was so touched because I could see how genuine they were with their thanks.

The kids walked me to my bus stop and I couldn’t help but think how great the Lord is. I sensed His joy today in a new way. At least for a few hours the kids could experience pure, childlike joy, untainted by the reality of their situation. I’ve spent the whole afternoon reflecting on just how “good” our time together was.

I’ve been thinking about ways in which I can help these kids in a more permanent fashion. Buying them lunch every day is good, but I realize its impact is far from long-lasting. My best idea so far is to see how much it would cost to send them to a full-day school, thus cutting down on the time they had to spend washing windshields on the street. There are many details that will need to be worked out, for example; making up for the potential lost income, transportation, if the moms will even agree, choosing kids, etc., but I am going to talk to some people about the possibility. Also, if anyone has any ideas please don’t hesitate to let me know (dylanwaugh@gmail.com).

Enough for now. Lauren and I are hoping to give you a special treat sometime soon. Stay posted.

Much love,

From Monday, 10/29

2007-10-30T08:22:00.000-06:00

I made my return to the Viva Spanish School yesterday morning. Nefret and I took the bus to Metrocentro, where she waited while I had class. I found yesterday’s 2-hour class much more manageable than the 4-hour classes we initially took. It was good to get back into “learning mode.” I am hoping these additional classes pay dividends in my time with the kids and my time here. I enjoyed walking back through the neighborhood where we lived when we first arrived in Nicaragua.

After class I walked back to Metrocentro to meet the kids and Nefret for lunch. I was anxious to sense the kids’ behavior and attitudes after Friday’s confusing events. I’m glad to say that the kids were back to their normal bubbly, giggly selves today. I’m still not sure what the reason for the difference in their demeanor was, but I was relieved that they were back to just being “kids” today. I realize that, as we spend more time together, our relationships will deepen and they will reveal more of themselves to me. It would be naïve to think they will be happy-go-lucky all of the time, but I am thankful that they are okay.

The girls have been asking for sandals for awhile now and Nefret told them she wanted to buy them yesterday. Nefret and the two girls disappeared into Payless (yes they have that here) and I was left trying to control three boys running around with dripping ice cream cones. One boy thought it was fun to try to turn off the escalator. Nefret and the girls emerged with the shoes likely just before we were, understandably, kicked out.

The rest of the day was fairly uneventful. We went to the grocery store, sat by the pool, cooked dinner, and sat around and talked in the dark due to the power outage.

Today Lauren and Nefret are headed to a resort with Vinny, a man who runs trips for volunteers here, and the kids from Lauren’s orphanage. I’m sure they will have a great time!

A Leisurely Sunday

2007-10-28T21:49:00.000-06:00

Lauren spent the morning at the orphanage bathing all of the children, leaving Nefret and I on our own for church. I certainly missed having Lauren there but I think it’s quite admirable that she spent her Sunday with the kids.

Nefret and I were in for quite a treat at church. The worship was great. Worship is always much more lively here than at home but today was even more intense than usual. I felt like I was at a party instead of at church. The band was rocking out and there were even women dancing with flags and ribbons up front.

To our surprise a man of obvious Non-Nicaraguan heritage approached the pulpit to give the sermon. I quickly recognized that his Spanish accent sounded much like mine – bad. Another gringo! He spoke in Spanish for about 5 minutes before switching over to English. A translator helped the vast majority of the congregation understand the language I was quite pleased to hear. Perhaps the most humorous parts of the service for me were the times Nefret, Brad, and I would be the only people laughing, since the Nicaraguans had to wait a few seconds until the translator translated the pastor’s jokes.

After church we had a chance to hang out with the orphans from Casa Bernabe – the orphanage where we’ve stayed during our last two Spring Breaks. I really enjoyed watching Nefret reconnect with some girls. I got to see my friends Giovanni and Manuel for a bit, too.

We lounged around here for the afternoon. I watched some football and called my parents and Grandmothers on Skype while the girls read and watched a movie. We were supposed to have dinner with our friend Ramon tonight, but unfortunately he is sick. Hopefully we can see him later in the week.

Tomorrow I am headed back to Spanish school in the morning – only for 2 hours this time – and Lauren is headed back to the work. I think Nefret is going to hang around a coffee shop and then join me for lunch with the street kids.

I’m both excited and anxious to see how the kids act tomorrow. After the change in demeanor we witnessed on Friday I don’t really know what to expect. I clearly do not have any skills in counseling and can barely communicate with them. Part of me is frustrated because I don’t know how to make the situation better. I can’t even really ask what the problem is. I am being humbled, though, and reminded that the only things I can really offer are my presence and my love. I know, deep down, that those are the most important qualities, but I always face that temptation to try to do more. Confronting my inabilities is yet another way in which I’m being humbled.

A Volcano and a Bat Cave

2007-10-28T08:42:00.001-06:00

Pictures from our trip are up: http://www.flickr.com/photos/dwnicaragua

Yesterday was certainly full of activity! I played soccer with Esmir and some of his college friends this morning and had lots of fun. Lauren and Nefret relaxed by the pool until Esmir and I returned around noon. We had some lunch before Nefret, Esmir, and I headed off to Volcan Masaya (Masaya Volcano) for the afternoon.

The bus ride to the volcano was crowded and long but definitely worthwhile. The volcano was amazing. It was much bigger than I imagined and quite spectacular looking. We spent some time hiking up to see this cross and look at the beautiful view of the surrounding countryside. Afterwards we took a tour of some caves nearby. They were pretty neat although the flying bats were a bit scary.

Last night Nefret, Lauren, and I went to a restaurant near our apartment which we’ve wanted to try. We had a great meal. I was quite tired from the soccer and hiking so I fell asleep early.

That’s all for now – hope everyone is having a great weekend back at home. We’ll be back in 2 ½ weeks for thanksgiving!

Much love,

that uncomfortable feeling you get when faced with questions you don't want to answer

2007-10-27T07:19:00.000-06:00

Poverty is complicated. People are complicated. These terms are messy and impossible to put in a box. I realize that by merely attempting to describe these words as “complicated” I am violating my previous statement.

I really want to write paint a picture of simplicity regarding the plight of the kids I’ve been hanging out with. I want to believe that they are ideal kids, perfect in manners, behavior, and very mature. If all of these factors held true then I would, every day, describe the time the kids spent laughing and enjoying themselves at lunch.

In light of these unfair expectations I think it’s important to recognize that these kids are just that – kids. In addition, they live incredibly tough lives and are being forced to handle situations, and the ages of 11 and 13, that none of us ever wants to face.

Today was tough. Don’t get me wrong, the kids and I still had a great time, but it went a little more complicated and deeper today. Our friend Nefret joined us and she was awesome with the kids. She also speaks some Spanish which was very helpful.

Usually they are upbeat, smiling, and happy when we eat. This alone is impressive, considering they are merely getting a short break from washing windshields and begging for money. Today, though, they all took turns being upset. While we were trying to order Kevin sat down in the corner, looking quite downtrodden. Nefret and I convinced him to get up, but the episode set the tone for the day. Later, Ninoska refused to eat; claiming that she ate a big breakfast and would rather draw. We didn’t really know how to handle this situation besides encouraging her to eat. After that Sonia was upset and Nefret and I couldn’t figure out the exact reason.

My best guess is that the kids might be getting a hard time from either family or friends since they get treated to lunch every day. Maybe this is untrue, but it’s the best I can come up with. If this is true, no wonder these kids are having trouble dealing with the situation. No wonder they weren’t completely overjoyed to be there with us. I wouldn’t be either if I knew I was going to be pressured afterwards. Again, this is just my conjecture so who knows what the real reasons are.

Despite these incidents we still had a great time. As usual we spent a solid hour after we finished eating drawing and learning a few new English words. Nefret brought along a bunch of clothes so this morning we went through and picked out outfits for each of the kids. They seemed really excited about them. All of them held the clothes to their noses and smelled them, obviously quite pleased that they were new.

During lunch Sonia showed us some cuts she had gotten after falling in the street. One in particular looked like it might be infected so after we said goodbye to the kids Nefret and I walked to the grocery store to buy some Neosporin.

Usually when I arrive to meet the kids they see me and come running before I see them. Because of this I’ve never seen the kids actually working. Since they weren’t expecting us to return with the Neosporin, however, we saw Sonia washing a car’s windshield and begging for some money. It was heartbreaking. Wasn’t this the girl who draws goofy pictures and laughs at my terrible Spanish? Although I knew what the kids do when they’re not with me I still had a hard time actually seeing them working. We were able to give her the medicine. Hopefully she uses it throughout the weekend.

Nefret and I then started walking to a coffee shop about 15 mins away when our good friend and neighbor Ramon pulled up on the side of the rode next to us and offered us a ride. Ramon is a very successful businessman and drives a Benz. He had to turn around to take us to the coffee shop, and in doing so we passed the kids working on the other side of the street.

The emotions I felt in that moment – driving by my friends the street kids in a Benz – capture the range and depth of thoughts and feelings I have here in Nicaragua. Nicaragua is a country of extremes, desperately lacking in stability, consistency, and normalcy. Although every country has wealth and poverty the two are interconnected here like I’ve never seen before. There is a tiny percentage of “haves” and an overwhelming percentage of “have nots.”

Often I struggle with how I should feel. How can rich people live with themselves when they see the immense poverty around them? This question gets uncomfortably convicting when I really think about it, since I have to label myself as a “rich person.”

With great frequency I ask general “why” questions like this only to find myself responsible for answering them. Nicaragua is not a comfortable place to be. I don’t see how anyone could come here and not be forced to look in the mirror and ask themselves these difficult questions. The issues are far more complex than just money, too. As I said earlier, poverty is complicated.

Un Regalo

2007-10-25T15:17:00.000-06:00

We are very excited - our friend Nefret is flying in tonight for a week! Somehow I am going to force myself to stay awake past 9pm to wait for her flight. This will be especially difficult if the baseball game is as boring as it was last night.

Today I again found myself learning a lesson about selflessness from my friends the street-kids. I arrived for lunch – they always seem to spot me far before I see them – and noticed they were extra giggly. We went to Metrocentro again and they excitedly asked for the camarones (shrimp) we had yesterday. Milton was taking a test so he was still at school, but a friend named Leonardo (I hope he forgives me if I spelled his name wrong!) took his place.

I had purchased some colored pencils yesterday which they enjoying using after we ate and practiced some English. As always, I received many beautiful pictures. I think our fridge will be covered by Tuesday at this pace! While the other kids were drawing pictures, Ninoska was quite focused on copying some sentences from a page she had brought. She was adamant about keeping her work a secret from me, telling me not to look repeatedly.

As we were about ready to leave Ninoska handed me un regalo (a gift) wrapped in a plastic bag and the note she had worked so hard on. In addition to Ninoska’s kind thank-you note the kids had brought me a pair of sunglasses. Their mother sells them to cars stopped at traffic lights, and the kids said they had all chipped in and picked out a pair. The parable of The Widow's Offering, when Jesus values the poor widow's contribution of two coins over much larger, yet not as heartfelt, offerings from the rich, came to mind.

I was so touched that these kids, who have virtually nothing, were generous enough to get me a present. Even more moving was their excitement to give it to me. I can’t help but think of much of Henri Nouwen’s writings in his journal Gracias. He repeatedly observes the simple, childlike faith held by the poor. Those without the false temptations of security, power, and importance that are inherent with wealth can often recognize truth easier. The poor are forced to face the reality of their situations without the masks of money, success, reputations, and jobs that we – I – like to turn to.

This pure, unpolluted faith is what we’re all called to seek. I was reminded of Mark 10:15 – “I tell you the truth, anyone who will not receive the kingdom of God like a little child will never enter it." I think this bare, simple faith is what Jesus refers to when he commands us to receive the kingdom of God “like a little child.” I came down here to serve and share the gospel with Nicaraguans. Instead I am repeatedly being shown what God’s love looks like through the actions of poor street-kids. Humbling, for sure.

Great Things Happening at the Dump

2007-10-25T09:20:00.001-06:00

Yesterday I had the chance to talk with Daniel Bain, an American who works for Love, Light, and Melody; a relief organization which serves families living in La Chureca. I really enjoyed getting to hear his story and the amazing things that he's been a part of there. LLM's website has a great video clip of the Dia de Luz (Day of Light) event which occurred last March.

http://www.braddigan.com/llm/diadeluz/

More to come soon, but just wanted to post that link.

Much love,
dw

Some (More) Lessons in Humility

2007-10-23T20:11:00.000-06:00

Lauren just posted a bunch of great pictures from her orphanage. Be sure to check them out at
http://www.flickr.com/photos/15927088@N07/

Another day in Nicaragua. It seems like I am starting to settle into a bit of a groove here, albeit one perhaps best described as “inconsistent.” I have a basic schedule set although something new happens every day. Shockingly, a repairman showed up to fix the leaky sink (another one is coming tomorrow to fix the oven) this morning. He told me (mostly using hand motions) that he needs another part and will be back tomorrow to finish the job.

Lauren went off to work and I did a little more research on graduate schools and internships before heading off to have lunch with my friends who clean windshields. I was determined to exercise some demons and again took the bus, despite yesterday’s difficulties. The 106 and the 119 treated me very well today, and I made it to Metrocentro in about 30 minutes.

The kids spotted me when I was about 50 yards away and came running up to greet me. The five from yesterday, Carlos, Milton, Ninoska, Sonia, and Kevin, along with two more kids circled around me and started speaking way too quickly for me to understand. After a few minutes Sonia’s mother came over; she sells sunglasses on the street, and there was some issue about who was allowed to join me for lunch. Initially Sonia’s mother sent her back to work, meaning she would not eat with us. I realized how much I enjoyed her company by how upset I became. I tried my best to convince her mother to let her come, and eventually she consented. There was more discussion and eventually the regular five and a little boy named Ysaac were allowed to come.

These kids work on the streets for most of the day so clearly their experiences have forced them to grow up prematurely. Underneath all of the poverty, dirt, and hunger, however, they are still kids. Sonia and Ninoska excitedly brought with them plastic bags of clean clothes to change into. They hurried off to the bathroom and emerged smiling like they had just put on their prom dresses. It was an adorable scene. I have been thinking about how to most accurately describe that moment. Maybe the best way of putting it is perhaps I got a glimpse of how God sees us. Hopefully that makes sense, it’s hard to explain.

The kids wanted to eat at Pollo Campero again so we again ordered a family meal and found a place to sit. I had already eaten yesterday when I took them to lunch and they had insisted that today I dine with them. I went to get more plates and when I returned they had given out the food, placing a huge breast, an entire bag of fries, and a soda at my place. Although this might not seem substantial, I found it telling of their generosity since not only did they give me the biggest piece of chicken but also there weren’t enough fries or cups to go around. These street kids were more concerned with me, a rich American, getting a good meal than their own wellbeing. Amazing. They spurned my attempts to trade pieces of chicken, and eventually complied when I told them I wasn’t very hungry. Only when I pulled out my water bottle and told them I would rather drink that did Ninoska accept the soda. It was quite humbling.

We had a great time learning some English words for foods and household items as well as drawing pictures and doing math problems. When they asked me if I had a big house in the US I didn’t quite know what to say. I said that I live in a normal house which, when asked, has four rooms. “Four rooms?!? That’s a huge house!” they responded. Carlos in particular impressed me with his intelligence. He is quite shy but is always smiling. He handled all of the addition problems I threw at him with ease.

At one point Sonia asked me (this took about 5 repetitions and hand motions for me to understand) if I was spending a lot of money on these lunches. How does one respond to that? I told them it was fine, not a problem. They then insisted that on Friday they would only eat ice cream because I was spending too much on their food. Again, I was humbled by their selflessness. I did my best to tell them they could get whatever they want on Friday, hopefully my point got across.

I’ve been thinking a good amount about how I can best serve the kids. My friend Andrew gave me good advice, telling me, “You want to give them a tool, not a crutch.” I know that simply taking the kids to lunch is not a permanent answer to their problems. I am hoping that the small amount of English I teach them is a helpful skill. Most importantly, though, I hope that they feel loved, cared for, and special for a couple hours a day. I’m excited to see them again tomorrow.

22 de Octubre, 2007

2007-10-22T20:19:00.000-06:00

After spending much of the morning at home looking at potential graduate school options I decided to get out and enjoy the nice day. Our landlady, Doña Norma, happened to by driving by so I was able to stop her and show her our broken oven and leaky sink. Supposedly she is sending someone to fix both issues tomorrow, but it’s Nicaragua so I’ll believe it when I see the repairman at the door.

I wanted to go visit my friends Sonia, Kevin, and Ninoska, the street kids I had lunch with on Friday and debated whether to take a bus or a taxi to the Metrocentro area. I decided on the bus and boarded the trusty 117 near our house. The bus was fairly crowded – I was forced to stand – but not too bad. A few stops later, however, about 25 more people boarded the bus and I understood that, out of necessity, Nicaraguans do not have the respect for personal space that I’m accustomed to. I was holding onto a pole, sweating like crazy, apologizing for my backpack being right in this woman’s face. At this point I started to question my choice to take the bus.

Any doubt I had that I should have paid the $1.50 for a taxi was erased when we picked up about 10 more people at the next stop. Although I don’t usually have any problems with claustrophobia I was starting to get a bit uncomfortable. I wasn’t able to move, much less get off, when we reached my stop, so I rode the bus for another 10 minutes or so until I could squeeze through and reach the back door. I realized I was near the Huembes market, quite far from Metrocentro, and took a cab to meet the kids. Lesson learned – don’t take the bus during the lunch hour! :)

I walked through Metrocentro and out to the street where I had met the kids on Friday. I didn’t see them at first but I guess that they saw me, as they ran across the street and gave me big hugs. They asked me what I had for dinner last night, and when I told them “chicken and rice” they told me, laughing, they had “solo uñas” for dinner. It took me a couple seconds but I remembered that “uñas” means “fingernails.”

Two of their friends, Milton and Carlos, joined and we headed into the food court for lunch. On the way the girls wanted to stop at the bathroom so the fellas and I hung out and waited in front of one of the shops nearby. A security guard approached us and started ushering the kids away. Only when I told him that they were with me did he stop bothering them. After the girls rejoined us and we started walking towards the stairs, passing him along the way. I heard him say on his radio “cinco niños…” I remembered that the kids were hesitant to enter Metrocentro because they were wearing dirty clothes, and now I realized why.

We enjoyed a nice lunch of pollo frito (fried chicken) from Pollo Campero. At one point I asked if they wanted to learn English and they all excitedly responded, “si!” So, thus commenced our informal English lessons. We learned the English words for all of the food we were eating as well as how to say, “my name is,” and some numbers.

After lunch we walked back to the corner where the kids work and I promised to meet them again tomorrow for lunch and more English lessons. We hugged goodbye and I started walking up the street. About 30 seconds later I heard the kids calling my name and saw them running up to me, wanting to walk with me to the next major road. They starting talking about lunch tomorrow and, after repeating their sentences many times, I finally understood that they were telling me they were going to bring ropa limpia (clean clothes) to lunch tomorrow. Milton asked Sonia (the unofficial spokeswoman) if they should change at home, to which she responded, “No, bring them in a bag, they will get dirty while we’re working.” At about this point my heart melted.

I loved eating with the kids today and am looking forward to tomorrow’s meeting. Maybe none of my attempts at finding a job are working out so I would be free to hang out with some street kids during the day. Who knows? I am learning, albeit reluctantly and quite slowly, to stop asking “why?” and instead pose the hypothetical question, “why not?”

Orphanage Adventures

2007-10-21T21:40:00.000-06:00

21 de Octubre

I have returned!

It has certainly been long enough since I have contributed to this blog – and I apologize for my absence. I think that I’ve been a little silent on the blog front as I’ve been trying to process all that I witnessed in the past week. But, it’s been long enough. I am now ready to share about my first week at the orphanage…

This past week has been unbelievable. I spent everyday, Monday through Friday, at the orphanage working with the kids. Perhaps it would help to start from the beginning…

When Dylan and I first started planning this trip, I knew if I was going to be serving down here, I wanted to be working with children that were not regularly receiving visitors and support – children that were in need of being shown some additional love and attention. Back in June, when I first met the children from Hogar de Douglas orphanage, my heart melted. I knew that was where I wanted to be spending my time. In June, the orphanage was located in a very small setting – overcrowded and understaffed. The majority of the children were sick, had head lice and ringworm and had never even seen a toothbrush.

On Monday morning, when Keren came to pick me up to bring me to the orphanage, she informed me that they had relocated. Much to my amazement, when I arrived at the new orphanage – I could not have imagined a greater blessing. The orphanage itself is enormous in comparison to the old grounds. The children look so healthy, clean and happy. It was as if I was looking at an entirely different group of children than I first saw four months ago.

Immediately upon seeing me, the children scrambled to give me hugs, shouting “Tia! Tia!” again and again (tia is aunt in Spanish). There was such simple joy in their faces at the prospect of having a visitor, a new playmate – and their excitement just continued to grow when they learned that I would be working with them through the end of January.

Since Monday, I have come to learn the names of all 13 children currently living at the orphanage. They range in age from about 15 months to 8 years old.

Poncho, the man who runs the orphanage, thankfully speaks some English and so we are able to communicate with one another. On Monday we established a basic schedule that I should work from around 10-3 or 4. The older children attend school about a mile-and-a-half away from the orphanage from 7-12 in the mornings, so I work with the younger children in the mornings. That means that we spend about an hour practicing colors, counting to 10, learning how to say please and thank you. Granted, you must realize that this is as much a school lesson for me as it is for the children – as it is entirely in Spanish. Except I am the one teaching the Spanish. After their school lesson, we usually play with legos – allowing me a chance to quiz them on the colors they practiced that morning and then spend a bit of time sitting in the front room – me with about 4 small children piled onto my lap in a rocking chair and the rest scattered about my feet chattering with each other. During this time we attempt to practice simple English words like mom and dad; however, if I’m being honest, it generally deteriorates to rounds of the face game.

Then, around 12 or 12:30 I leave to pick up the older children from school. Sometimes I walk by myself, sometimes Poncho or one of the other women from the orphanage come with me. As I said, the school is about a mile-and-a-half from the orphanage, and by the time I arrive at the school, the children are never done with their lessons. So, I usually sit on the steps to their school room and listen in. I am not really sure how they determine who attends the school or not, but I have discovered that anywhere from 5 to 8 of the children from the orphanage attend the school on any given day. Once school is over, we spend a few minutes getting everyone situated, piling me up with everyone’s schoolbags, and then we all hold hands and get started on our way back to the orphanage. It has become a bit of a tradition that we stop at this little man’s shop along the way home to get a small snack. The shop has a big covered, marble porch where we all huddle together eating snack and everyone goes around the circle and tells me – in very slow Spanish how their day went. Once everyone finishes, we continue on our way back home. If it’s nice out, we make another stop in the park that we pass through on the way home. We usually spend about 30 minutes or so there playing on the swings and racing around the park until everyone’s too hot and sweaty and ready to head back.

By the time we make it back to the orphanage it’s usually time for lunch. While all of the children sit down to eat, it has become my responsibility to feed baby Kevin. Kevin is somewhere around 15 months old and absolutely priceless. Around 12:30 on the dot, regardless of whether lunch has been brought out yet, he finds me and climbs up in my lap (we usually eat in the rocking chair). So, I spend lunch time feeding Kevin and then we rock until he falls asleep with a full belly.

After lunch, everyone gets a bit of free time. Generally we all sit in the front room and the older children like to teach me silly Spanish songs that I do not understand while the younger kids continue to play with legos, calling out the names of the colors of the blocks as they build. As they get bored, we move on to reading one of the books that’s usually lying around – this almost always winds up being an English copy of Jingle Bells. I am not sure what the fascination with this story is – but the children love to admire the colorful pictures of Santa – despite the fact that they do not understand the words I read to them; however, the colorful pictures provide a perfect opportunity for us to practice the colors that we are learning.

When free time ends, the children again split into two groups – younger and older – and sit down at their respective tables for homework time. It is my responsibility to work with some of the younger children (ranging from 3-6). Each of the children has a blank notebook that I write their daily lessons in. Last week we practiced writing the numbers 1-20 and then learned how to do la suma (addition), subtraction and multiplication. Again, I must remind you – this is all in Spanish. Imagine how difficult it was the first time you were learning how to count or add and subtract – and then imagine if some random person who didn’t speak your language tried to teach you. Precisely. As much as I am struggling to teach in Spanish – these children are showing remarkable intelligence. They are grasping the concepts much quicker than I would have imagined – especially considering my very broken Spanish instructions. Once our number lessons are over, we work on the alphabet for a little bit and then practice simple Spanish sentences. In order to do this, I write sentences (or numbers or math problems, etc.) at the top of each page in their notebooks and then they work through them each day. We do this for about an hour-and-a-half until the children begin to lose patience.

Then – we move on to the English lessons. All of the children above 3 gather together and we practice a new English lesson each day. Last week we focused on learning the numbers 1-10. The children have made remarkable progress – and are so eager to learn. In addition to the numbers, they have also learned the primary colors, mom, dad, please and thank you.

Poncho has explained much to me about life at the orphanage. Almost all of the children have parents that are still alive. In fact, every Friday is parents’ day. Friday mornings the parents come to visit their children and see how they are doing. The majority of the children were placed in the orphanage because their homes were violent/abusive or their parents could not afford to care for them. On Thursday, I witnessed my first parent visit. The mother of two of the boys at the orphanage came a day early for her visit. She came weighted down with bags of popcorn, candy and soda. I watched as she sat outside with the boys, chatting with them as if this was normal. I suppose it is, but I just couldn’t understand. Along with the boys and their mother was a girl – I would guess about 12 or 13 – the boys’ sister; apparently her mother had decided not to give her up, only the boys. When they left, the older of the two boys sobbed and sobbed, questioning how God could possibly do this. “Doesn’t my mother love me?” he kept asking between sobs. I watched, teary eyed, as Miguel, his younger brother, hugged and comforted him. Miguel calmed his brother and whispered to him that he loved him, no matter what happened. Then, the brothers came over to me and we just rocked in the rocking chair together as I tried to understand how this all made sense. How is it that a 6 year old boy should have to comfort his 7 year old brother? How does a mother come to keep her daughter and abandon her sons? I witnessed this and just struggled to find God at work.

Then, on Friday, Poncho told me that I should come a little later in the afternoon so that the children could have time with their parents. So, instead of arriving around 10, I delayed my arrival until noon. When I arrived I found half the orphanage in tears. No one’s parents showed up for the parents visit. The majority of the children were crying, asking again and again where their mom or their dad was. “Why would God do this to me?” I listened to one of the older girls ask. “Why doesn’t my mother love me enough to be here?” How do you respond to that? What words are there to comfort a five year old child that seems to be repeatedly abandoned by their parents? And where exactly was God in the midst of this?

But as I held the children that afternoon, I started to realize – he is in every one of them – he is in each one of those children. I watched as the older children went around and sat with the younger children, hugging them and whispering consoling words to them. I watched them see God’s love in each other. Slowly, they each put aside their own struggles to care for those of the younger and the weaker. And despite the enormous disappointment that they faced that morning – they still had so much love to offer to one another.

October 19th, 2007 – Streetkids and Scooters

2007-10-20T21:56:00.000-06:00

Another ridiculous day in Nicaragua! Lauren and I planned on heading to Metrocentro to buy some more minutes for our phones before she went to the orphanage, so we walked to the bus stop around 10:30. We waited for about five minutes before a man walked to his truck, parked right next to the bus stop, and asked us where we were going. When I told him he offered us a ride. Why not?

During the ride we found out that Walter works for a cell phone company and lives far away. That’s about the limit of dept my conversations in Spanish can reach. Upon reaching Metrocentro he asked to exchange emails and phone numbers. Only in Nicaragua.

We bought the phone cards and Lauren headed to catch her bus while I went to the coffee shop to read since I wasn’t due to meet Roberto at Scooter King until 2pm. He generously offered to drive me around and look at automatic scooters, despite the fact that we’d be visiting his competitors. I finished Henri Nouwen’s Life of the Beloved. I didn’t know much about the book before buying it but have always been a huge fan of his. He didn’t let me down.

The book is Nouwen’s attempt to appeal to seekers. He attempts to avoid Christian lingo and any assumed familiarity with “religion.” The relation between the book’s form and content is quite clearly intentional. The book is simply a letter to his friend Fred, who prompted him to write the book. The informal, intimate mode is a perfect medium in which Nouwen states, then expounds upon, the simple message, “You are beloved.” He encourages Fred to consider the notion that God loves him and discusses the ramifications for Fred’s life if he truly believed this. Nouwen beautifully describes the life of the beloved, in which one possesses an inner peace which allows life’s struggles to be viewed as simply a way to become closer to the Lord. Although Nouwen’s intended audience was seekers I was extremely challenged.

After finishing the book I sat pondering Nouwen’s assertion that “our life is the greatest gift to give.” Nouwen’s statement reminded me of 2 Corinthians 5:14,15 – “Jesus died for us that we might not live for ourselves but for Him.” What if I really took that seriously? So often I don’t want to. I love being in control of my life. To die to myself is to completely give up control, an intimidating thought.

With these questions dancing in my head I headed up the street to get some lunch at the sushi place on the way to Scooter King. Practically as soon as I reached the main road I was approached by two street children – kids who wash windshields at stoplights and hope for a Cordoba from the driver. They asked me for money, which is a daily occurrence here. Perhaps challenged by Nouwen to experience the joy that comes with giving I asked the boy and girl if they wanted to eat lunch with me. They excitedly smiled and agreed before asking if their friend could join. We headed to Tip-Top, a fried chicken restaurant across the street.

Over greasy chicken, fries, and cokes I got to know Sonia, Ninoska, and Kevin. Sonja, a cousin of the other two, is a third grader who likes soccer and wants to be a doctor. Ninoska is a fifth grader who wishes to help poor kids when she grows up. Kevin is a huge baseball, basketball, and fulbol Americano fan who likes studying math in the 3^rd grade. He wants to be a sports commentator.

I felt like I was having a meal with my cousins instead of with kids who go to school in the morning and beg for money in the afternoon. We drew pictures, told jokes, and laughed at my terrible Spanish. The kids thanked me profusely for the meal. I was struck by their selflessness. Sonja took great pleasure in serving us our food, with herself last. Ninoska and Sonja wrapped up their leftovers for their families. The kids asked for my phone numbers and promised to call.

I’m writing about this story first and foremost to note how easy it is to forget the joy that comes with service. I fall victim to this every day. My brief time with the street kids was a much-needed reminder that they way of the Cross, living for others, really does bring about true peace and contentment. This notion is completely illogical in our society, which thrives on competition, and thus requires us to place ourselves out of our comfort zones. God promises to be faithful in claiming that giving of oneself really is a blessing. One merely has to look to his example – “the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many," – Matthew 20:28.

I met Roberto around 2pm and he took me around to six different dealerships to look at scooters. I didn’t end up buying one, as the cheapest one was $1,320, but I thoroughly enjoying spending time with him. He went to college in Kansas for two years so it was fun to hear about his experience in the States. I thanked him many times for his assistance and he replied that he was treated very well in the States and that helping me was the least that he could do. I was touched by his act of service.

Roberto gave me many warning about places to avoid in Nicaragua and implored me to exercise caution when traveling. He told me how he got kidnapped once and now carries a gun in his car.

I also had a chance to talk to him about faith. He asked what my religion was, and I struggled through telling him that I don’t follow a denomination. He told me that he doesn’t follow any religion because he has trouble juxtaposing the Church, with all of its money, with all of the problems in the world. “Jesus was poor. He spent time with poor people,” he told me. I agreed, acknowledging that the Church has made many mistakes, then noted that I try to base my life on Christ’s because of the very reasons he put forth. It was a great conversation. We’re trying to meet up to watch baseball sometime soon.

The Lord is good. Living here has made me realize many of my shortcomings, which in turn has led me to rely on Him for strength. I have been so blessed by the Nicaraguan people as they continuously offer their assistance to me and show me what service looks like. At times I’ve struggled immensely with missing people back home but, again and again, God has used prayer and the support of family and friends to keep me going. I am so grateful to be here. Although there are many peaks and valleys I’m starting to realize more and more that God is not calling me to be “successful” here, but rather to merely seek Him in everything I do and everyone I meet.

My Day at the Dump

2007-10-18T16:40:00.000-06:00

(pictures from my trip will be posted tonight at http://www.flickr.com/photos/dwnicaragua)

Every day seems to bring forth new challenges and blessings. I am sure that this is as true in the US as here, but I am thinking that I am more sensitive to, and receptive of, what God might be showing me in Nicaragua. I certainly have fewer distractions, for better or for worse, here. Today was no exception to this theme.

For the first three days of the week I’ve made excursions in the morning but then just been relaxing back here in the afternoons. The down time has been nice but I’m itching to do something to serve and experience more of the country so I called my friend Brad and asked if I could go with him to the Colegio Cristiano La Esperanza (Hope Christian School) where he volunteers.

The school is located in La Chureca, the trash dump in Managua where a community of at least several hundred people lives and earns money by sifting through the city’s garbage for plastic and metal. I took a bus to meet Brad at UCA (Universidad Centroamerica) where we caught another bus to the director of the school’s house. Brad and I then squeezed into the back of an SUV with 2 little girls for a short ride to the dump. I’ve been to La Chureca several times on past trips but driving past the hundreds of people climbing on the mountains of trash like ants on an anthill still hit me hard.

At the beginning of the day I joined Brad while he helped with the preschoolers. I enjoyed watching and listening to them all sing songs and have fun. Their teacher, Norman, a 21-year old Nicaraguan, reviewed weather vocabulary before moving onto time. Brad and I decided to go visit the clinic, located right behind the school, since I’ve never been. The clinic is small and sparsely decorated. Brad told me that only about 10-15 people go to the clinic each day, a staggeringly low number considering the odds of staying healthy in such atrocious living conditions. He explained that the people can’t afford to give up valuable time they could have been working.

We left the clinic and decided to walk around a bit to get a better feel for the community. I am realizing how much I enjoy just simply seeing and experiencing Nicaragua. Merely walking through the muddy streets and seeing people at work, homes, and the madness that is La Chureca was quite powerful. Along the way Brad shared with me some information on the dump which he heard yesterday from a volunteer who’s worked with the community for years.

Ever since March 2006, when I first visited La Chureca, I’ve had no trouble believing that hell must resemble what goes on there. This is not a unique parallel to make, in fact it’s often hard to avoid after experiencing the place. Brad told me many things about the dump of which I was completely unaware and gave me even more trouble in understanding La Chureca. He put it very well when he said, “I’ve always known La Chureca is hell. Now, after hearing what I did yesterday, I think it’s hell for many more reasons.”

My understanding of La Chureca, before today, was that those who live there have no other options. I believed that the residents were financially forced to live there and sort through the trash for a small amount of money. Turns out, for many families, it’s not that simple. Brad told me that a significant number of families choose to live in La Chureca because they can practically escape from the requirements of everyday life. For instance, drug and alcohol use are rampant, as is sex, prostitution, often of young teenage girls, and domestic violence. The police won’t bother those living in the dump, though, allowing all of these activities to flourish. He said that he was told that virtually every girl has had sex, often as a result of abuse, by the start of her teenage years. Although this storyline is certainly not applicable to every family it does make the dump even more confusing and upsetting.

I asked Brad if the kids know enough to realize that there is life outside of the dump. He responded that they do, as they watch tv from time to time, but they don’t believe they are worthy or able to live any other way than they do. Logically, Brad said, the kids have significant problems with self-esteem. Rarely do they receive much support from their parents, who, as one could imagine, are often dealing with many complicated issues of their own. The kids can’t envision themselves doing anything other than following in their parents’ footsteps.

When Brad and I left the school around lunchtime we planned on walking through the dump-city to get to the bus stop. A truck happened to be driving by so we jumped onto the back and held on while the driver swerved to avoid holes and huge puddles. I sat in silence as I witnessed the people of La Chureca at work. The truck made a turn back into the dump so Brad and I jumped off the still-moving vehicle and into the mud. We walked the last ¼ mile or so out of the dump back to the street.

As I walked past people I felt upset, sick, angry, and confused. How does this exist? Before today I thought that the answer was to simply blame to owner of the dump, who rents the land to the government and therefore makes money off of La Chureca. While he certainly deserves a lion’s share of the blame, pinning him as the sole culprit would be irresponsible and ignorant. What about the people who choose to feed their addictions in the anarchist community rather than care for their kids? However, I recognize the power of addictions and therefore realize I should be more concerning with offering support rather than casting blame. What about the citizens of Managua, who allow this nonsense to happen? What about the rest of Nicaragua? I was tempted to continue to increase the breadth of my blame, allowing my confusion and anger to guide my accusations. Then I had the sobering though – What about me? It’s easy to cast blame, hard to accept it. I know that I haven’t done anything that has directly forced people to live in trash. But, what have I done to help fix the problem? Why can’t I help?

I’ll leave you with quick anecdote that best describes my experience at the dump today. Brad and I were sitting and watching a teacher lead a group of kids in song. The kids were having a wonderful time singing and acting out the motions which accompanied the song. I looked over and saw one boy, happily participating, covered in flies. He had a substantial cut on his nose which, along with his level of cleanliness, attracted a swarm of flies. Here he was, though, singing and dancing with everyone else, unaware, or perhaps more appropriately, not believing that he, as a child of God, deserves a better life. Watching this boy broke my heart. I think this story speaks volumes not only about the inherent goodness and beautiful nature of children, but also the terrible lie that we often believe; that we’re not good enough or not worthy to be loved, have dreams, or even simply to be clean.

My prayer for La Chureca is not groundbreakingly unique, but I do believe it could have unspeakably huge ramifications. I pray that the kids simply realize how much God loves them and that they can see Him reflected in their faces and in their lives. If only they could see themselves how God sees them; as his beautiful and perfect children, whom he passionately and fiercely loves.

Gracias

2007-10-16T11:36:00.000-06:00

Hey! I had an enjoyable morning so I want to write to share a bit.

Lauren and I were walking through our neighborhood to the bus stop when a Mercedes slowed down next to us and a man asked us, in English, where we were going. When he heard we were going to catch a bus he offered us a ride, which we clearly accepted. Turns out the man, Ramon, lives in this baller house just outside of our apartment complex. He’s a powerbroker who works for the NYSE. If I didn’t know we were in Managua I would think he was a typical American businessman, complete with blackberry and sweet car. Instead of merely taking us to the bus stop, Ramon took us all the way to Metrocentro, going the complete opposite way he needed to go. Along the way he asked us questions and got to know us. After offering to take us to San Juan del Sur, he apologized for not being able to take us during the week since he had to work. He also repeatedly thanked us for coming to volunteer in Nicaragua and gave me his business card, offering to help us with anything we might need.

I then visited Compassion and found out that Maria Jose is sick today but that she would call me as soon as she comes back into the office. Afterwards I stopped by Catholic Relief Services, located about 3 blocks from Compassion, to get some information. The director was out of town but I was able to get a brochure describing, in English, their work in Nicaragua. I am just trying to get a back up plan if Compassion doesn’t work out and CRS looks pretty appealing.

After visiting CRS I took a bus to Cetro America and walked to a place called Scooter King which I had seen while driving past last week. Lauren and I have talked a bit about buying a small, slow, moto and I figured I should check them out. I talked with a man named Roberto who spoke good English and showed me a 75cc moto which only costs $720. He then told me I might have trouble getting it registered but then disappeared for a few minutes to call his friend who knew if it’s possible to register a moto with a US license and passport. We found out it’s possible, and, Roberto then bargained the man down from $100 to $20 for the service. He then offered to give me lessons for free since I don’t know how to drive a moto. We got to talking about why I’m here and when I told him I don’t have a job lined up yet he took my number and offered to call some of his friends who do social work. As I was leaving he gave me his card and told me to call him anytime or to stop by the store with any questions or problems about anything.

The attitudes of servitude displayed by Ramon and Roberto are yet more examples of the beautiful nature of Nicaraguans and Nicaraguan society. Lauren and I have been the recipients of more unsolicited help than we could ever dreamed of. A businessman gives us a ride and ends up repeatedly thanking us. A salesman spends his own time and energy trying to help me in my job search.

These events are particularly noteworthy to me since I am re-reading Henri Nouwen’s Gracias right now. The book is Nouwen’s journal from his time in Latin American in the 1980s. Nouwen expresses thoughts, emotions, and reflections that I resonate with yet am incapable of expressing with the eloquence and depth with which he writes. He also challenges me to recognize God here. Our experiences, while different in the basics of where we are, who we’re serving, etc., are strikingly similar.

One observation Nouwen makes is that he went to Latin America to serve but instead ended up being served. Lauren discussed this concept a few weeks back. This idea that instead of offering something to those with whom he worked, Nouwen merely receiving their blessings, certainly struck home with me today. We, as Americans, myself definitely included, could learn much from the Latin Americans in terms of service.

I’m sure I’ll more about Nouwen later. He is my favorite writer. If you get a chance to pick up Gracias you should, as it is basically this blog although about 5,000,000 times more introspective, challenging, and better written.

This post is long enough. Hope you are well.

Much love,

2007-10-15T14:53:00.000-06:00

Yesterday was fairly ordinary. The highlights of the day were going to church and having Esmir and Brad over to watch football in the afternoon. It rained quite a bit, forcing us to stay inside and merely stare at the pool through the window.

Church was pretty cool yesterday. We watched a video clip about Team Hoyt. If you don’t know their story, and even if you do, it’s definitely worth watching. The son, Rick, was born with cerebral palsy and cannot walk or talk. After his father, Dick, pushed him in his wheelchair in a benefit race in 1977, Rick communicated that he didn’t feel handicapped when they were racing. Since then they have competed in over 65 marathons, 200 triathlons, and biked/ran across the country. It’s an amazing story of a father loving his son. I cry every time I see the video, and today was no exception.

This morning I went to Compassion to talk with Maria Jose but found that she is in training all day. I left my number and she is supposed to call sometime. I figure I will probably head back there tomorrow sometime. If it’s meant to be it will work out. Otherwise, I’m sure there is something else I am supposed to be a part of that that will be revealed in due time.

I took a couple buses home from Compassion today, which was a good experience. It was nice to get the routes figured out. Hopefully I remember which ones to take and don’t hop on the wrong one next time! When I was walking home from the bus stop I saw a man driving a pick up truck who looked just like my friend Andrew Caffrey. It was uncanny.

Right now Lauren is at the orphanage she will be working with. I can’t wait until she gets home and tells me all about it. Tonight we’re meeting a friend of a friend from WM for dinner. She happens to be studying here and it’s always nice to meet another person from the States.

One other interesting thing - our neighbor seems to be quite fond of ridiculously cheesy American love songs. Usually we hear Mariah Carey or Celine Dion. Today we heard "Take my Breath Away" from Top Gun at full volume. It was tight.

Alright, I’m out. Hope all is well back at home. Be sure to watch that Hoyt video if you are interested.

Much love,