Life a la 13.5

For four entire days last week I went nowhere without being encompassed by a tangled mass of arms and legs and hugs and kisses and shouts of children ranging from 3 to 14 years old. Welcome to my home-stay at 13.5! The purpose of the Manna Project home-stay is the following:

- To provide a cultural experience for the PDs, increasing their knowledge and understanding of life in the community.

- To further understand the assets and needs of the community in order to better serve them.

- To further connect the community of Cedro Galan and Manna Project, building deeper and more personal relationships.

- To give families in Cedro Galan an opportunity to support Manna Project.

Cedro Galan is the community we serve with our programs in El Farito, the small open air school house. However, for my home-stay, I chose to stay with a family on kilometer 13.5 of carretera vieja a Leon, the area we know as "13.5." This barrio (neighborhood) includes a group of homes which contain various members of a large extended family. Many of the 13.5-ers participate in our various programs. I stayed with Tatiana, Gerald, and Maycol, three precious children from my English class. They play every day with their extended family members in 13.5, so my homestay brought back memories of growing up around my very large and noisy and wonderful extended family. Every morning the children walked to the local Catholic school while I stayed home with their mothers. Mornings could be filled with everything from chores to idling outside to a very exciting trip to the local market for grocery shopping. In the afternoons, madness ensued upon the chavalos return. These children play with an unmatched enthusiasm. From tree-climbing and mandarina-picking to pickup games of baseball and soccer, these kids don't stop. I was especially touched when they wanted to play memory with spanish and english words, something we often do in Kid’s English to practice vocabulary. Tatiana cut out squares of paper and wrote the spanish vocabulary while I wrote the english...pretty soon, all the cousins were learning how to say gecko, shark, dog, and duck (we're studying animals in class). I can't claim that keeping the pace with such a lively bunch of youngsters didn't absolutely wear me out, but I will say that being around so much joy and energy perked up my mood and helped me focus on the good in life. For a week, it was like I could go back to being a kid again, surrounded by family and laughter and silly arguments and lots of gallo pinto, the Nicaraguan staple cuisine. In addition to taking me back, this week was a chance to get an inner look into the daily life of members of the local community. From sunrise to bedtime, I experienced life through the eyes of 13.5, a life which entailed cousins, playtime, clothes washing on the pila, singing our respective national anthems, and very cold bucket showers when the water ran low.

I didn't take my camera on my trip, but I'll add a few pictures here that I have of the kids I stayed with in 13.5:

Meet Marcos and Freddy...on the way to Kid's English, they got a little rambunctious in the Patrol.

"Dos para bingo! Dos para bingo! Venga pa' aca!" This is a common little ditty these kids sing when they get really excited about being close to winning at bingo. This has become a favorite game, allowing the kids to learn while having fun.

Marcos, it seems, is just as big of a Vanderbilt fan as I am. What a coincidence.

On a big outing with our class to celebrate good attendance and practice vocabulary! Pictured left to right are Maycol, Jan Maggi (that's me!), Tatiana, Marcos, Leah, Gerald, and Stefano. I lived with siblings Maycol, Tatiana, and Gerald for the week in 13.5 with their mom and older brother. Note Stefano's glove...I think he thought we were at the movies to see the new Michael Jackson movie, not "Lluvia de hamburguesas" (that's "Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs" in English), which we viewed instead. Note how "bien vestido" (well dressed) they were for their outing...they were very excited, although that may not show in the photo.

With love,

Jan Maggi

More photos of the perritos...

Since my last update, Sydney is on her way to better health thanks to the love and care of her watchful owners. Shout out to Amelia, Daniel, and Anina, who have born the brunt of mothering our mama-dog.

The following our some photos of our precious perritos. See Sydney below, including her protective cone, her stump tail, and the damage done.

Here, ladies and gentlemen, is a close up of our beautiful yet wounded pooch. Note her cone has been transformed into a depiction of the four seasons. Time brings healing, baby!

Finally, meet Cola-dog (who is really just named Cola, which means "tail" in Spanish) as he sits beside his food bowl. Cola is the culprit of Sydney's injured limb, but really he's just a pup who is either just dumb or doesn't know his own strength. Whichever way, I absolutely adore him even if from time to time my old fears reappear. He's great to take on walks around the neighborhood...I've never felt so safe as when having a giant rottweiler on the leash!

Pobrecita la Sydney

Our dear mistress of the Manna House, the one and only Sydney,* fell ill after a playful-turned-pernicious romp with Cola (her son, see photo below.) The two Rottweilers serve as faithful guards and companions, so the mood around the house has been greatly altered with everyone's favorite girl-dog under such pain. Her first visits to the vet proved futile as he diagnosed the bite as a scorpion's attack and drained the wound. Days later and a visit to a new vet proved that Cola was the true culprit. Unfortunately, this visit also witnessed Sydney's wound become infected to the point that the skin covering her injured limb fell right off! (She has been wrapped in bandages and love every since and is under a 24/7 Dog Watch.) To keep her nose out of her own business, she must wear the traditional cone around her head...but in this house, nothing stays normal for long! I came back one night to find Syndey patrolling around the house (she's since become an "indoor dog") with the four seasons decorating her lovely cone. Now, as I am on my shift of 24/7 Dog Watch, I decided to share her story with the world! An additional props to my fellow PD Amelia, who has slept with Sydney every night post-surgery...lest the bandage slide down her leg. That, folks, is dedication.

Sydney, in her healthier days, guards the house while Cola gazes contently from his lap pool

* I feel the need to note that Sydney and I weren't always bosom buddies...I spent the two months of my existence in Nicaragua deathly afraid of both rottweilers, my fears only increased by the fact that Sydney actually bit me! I thought I'd never get to the point of friendliness, but really, who can resist the charm of such lovable dogs? After all, she was only doing her job...

Coming Home

Last night, I went to America. My first steps onto American soil in Nicaragua brought with them a rush of nostalgia and an eery sense of being in two places at once. I was in America, the American Embassy in fact, located on Carretera Sur just fifteen minutes from “home” in Nicaragua. Who knew America was so close? As I walked through security and left behind my cell phone, I entered an open space of nothing but clean pavement, palm trees, and an American flag. Already I felt miles away from the potholes and trash I drive past every day on Managuan roads. I entered a building covered wall-to-wall, floor-to-ceiling with Old Glories and every state flag. Listening to our Ambassador’s words amongst the largest gathering of gringos I’ve seen outside of the States, I was filled with good old fashioned American pride. This is not a sentiment I typically carry with me in Nicaragua, a country whose history has been stained with abuses of their powerful neighbor to the North. The Ambassador acknowledged our rather strained diplomatic ties with the country while highlighting Nicaragua’s wonderful natural beauty and the generosity and kindness of the locals. The theme of the night, “crisis preparedness” as he called it, concerned the natural perils (hurricanes, volcanoes, earthquakes) that we ex-patriots face as well as the underlying (dormant?) threat of political unrest...

I’ve realized that being abroad in no way makes me invulnerable to the desire for home. The ability to return home is one that I will always cherish as long as I have it. In fact, thanks to an early birthday present and frequent flyer miles, I was able to return home last week to visit both family and friends over Vanderbilt’s Homecoming weekend. The weekend was a treasure: a reminder of where I come from, who I am, why I do what I do, and what I hope to accomplish with the rest of my time with Manna Project International. It was a gift to embrace my best friends, drive around town with my sisters, visit my old college haunts, attend church in English, cheer on my Alma Mater...the list goes on and on! I was rejuvenated by unselfish friendships and the confirmation that what I get to do in Nicaragua with MPI is a privilege, a calling, and an unequivocal, unmissable opportunity. My return to Vanderbilt, Nashville, and Murfreesboro only brings to light the fact that I now have two homes: Nashville or Nicaragua, Murfreesboro or Managua...wherever I may be, home is where the heart is, and my heart is with me.

Tonight I sit outside the Manna House. It’s Friday night, America night. A night to laugh with friends and de-stress. A night to be thankful. A night to celebrate. Working for a nonprofit organization in a third world country doesn’t somehow make me immune to my roots. It doesn’t blind me to think that I am so special, so able, or so gifted as to somehow be capable of shaking off where I come from and pretend to have had to deal with the poverty and the injustices that some people I work with here face on a daily basis. There are things I can do, such as return to America, that some people in Nicaragua will never be able to do. That does not lessen my desire to work relentlessly here or to return home when able. If anything, it encourages me to continually give thanks for my blessings and use them to bless others. Home is where the heart is. This weekend, and these past few months, are teaching me how to be a blessing no matter which home I may be in...by keeping a smile on my face, by uplifting those around me, by sharpening my mind, by celebrating the moment. Carpe. Diem.

Nashville, TN

Nicaragua

It's definitely not a Nashville party...

I'd like to share a list of my new favorite jams, my iTunes "Nicañol" playlist. Some songs are absolutely ridiculous, some are great for dancing, and some should be international hits, but may they all bring a smile to your face and moves to your body! Por favor, ¡disfrútate!

Nica-Pop:

- Te amo by Makano

- Te regalo amores by RKM & Ken-Y

- El Amor y Tito El Bambino (You can't listen to this without being unbelievably happy...just makes me want to fall in love!)

- Yo Te Extrañaré by Tercer Cielo (Brings a tear to the eye and reminds me of the 13.5 kids who belt out every single word.)

- Latinoamerica by Tercer Cielo (If only I could describe my affection for this song. Makes me want to change the world. Makes me feel like I did just that solely by listening to this song.)

- No te pido flores by Fanny Lu

- By Flex: Dime si te vas con el & Te amo tanto

Reggaeton

- Virtual Diva by Don Omar (A Patrol Car Favorite)

- Flow Natural by Beenie Man, Ines, & Tito El Bambino (Shoot! If you thought Jai Ho was a hit...well, it was, and this is different, but still good. A cross-cultural experience.)

- Sexy Movimiento by Wisin & Yandel

- Daddy Yankee: Lo Que Paso, Paso; El Impacto; Que Tengo Que Hacer

- Pitbull: Fuego; I Know You Want Me; Krazy; The Anthem; Blanco (absolutely ridiculous)

Old Habits Die Hard:

(These older songs are ones I'm still hanging on to)

- Me Gustas Tu by Manu Chao (May be old, but it's new to me. A french-spanish singer who gives a NICA shout out - nothing better!)

- Perdoname by La Factoria

- Dímelo by Enrique Inglesias (A must. Obviously. Listen to it in English OR Spanish.)

- El Telefono by Hector Bambino (One of the first songs I listened to and then realized, "Hey. I can understand this.")

- Salio el Sol

- Pam Pam (...don't know the real name, just love it)

- Eso Ehh...!!! by Alexis y Fido

- Hace Calor

Bachata:

- By Aventura: Hermanita; Eso No Es Amor (So funny. Listen, and you'll know why.)

- Te comence a querer by Tito El Bambino (Ah! Falling in love with this country one step at a time!)

Folklórico:

- La Pelo de Maiz by Otto de la Rocha (listen here)

- Nicaragua Nicaragüita by Carlos Mejía Godoy

- Son Tus Perjúmenes Mujer by Carlos Mejía Godoy

Wait...I thought I was in Nicaragua:

- Si Yo Fuera Un Chico by Beyonce

- Yo Quiero Make Love by Akon...? (Yes, a fabulous remix of AKON's "I wanna make love" - the Nicas LOVE some Akon!)

- He Querido Quererte by Franco El Gorilla ft. Tico (Chris Brown's "Forever" comes to Nica & this is their love child)

- Watcha Say by Jason DeRulo

- Party in the USA by Miley Cyrus

- Ego by Beyonce

...well, guess I don't just listen to Latin music. I sneak a few American ones in there...

Hope this music brings you a huge sonrisa! Smile!

Jan Maggi (como la sopa, no?)

Rabbit and the Bear

Rabbit and the Bear (Lyrics), a song that has provided me encouragement and motivation, two needed elements in my line of work...

photo of La Chureca; Managua, Nicaragua

And now proceeds my post, which I didn't have a title for other than the above fitting song:

Two days a week, I walk into La Chureca to visit the families involved in Manna’s Child Sponsorship. Two days a week, I trample the trash, hold my breath through the smoke, and sweat under the sun that is endured by Churecans day in and day out. Two days a week, I pass children carrying loads of trash on their backs to be recycled. I greet mothers suffering from ever-present illness. I avoid mangy farm animals who look more like walking nightmares than pets or food. I see people dwelling in a veritable hell on earth.

Seven days a week, I hope for a way out. I coordinate efforts with the Child Sponsorship team to enact new measures to increase the efficiency of our program. I look for new sponsors. I dream for a better life for the children who know of nothing more than life in Chureca.

Every week I visit a family with precious little girls who have captured my heart with their funny haircuts, sweet little pipsqueak voices, and increasing desire to play and be held. They live on the border where the neighborhood merges into the dump, and the view from their front gate is trash, smoke, and the occasional flea-bitten mongrel. But one day, as I held one of the tiny girls in my arms, she looked out over her shoulder, pointed to the trash, and said “¡Hay flores!” There are flowers. Look! Flowers! Do you see them? We’ve got lots of flowers, and animals too! She showed me the beauty she finds in her life, the only life she’s got. Where I saw heaps of trash and green plants growing in puddles of sludge, she saw beautiful flowers. She then ran down to a row of weeds growing along the wall of a nearby home, and pointed out more “flowers.” Her joy was contagious, but as I picked her back up, acknowledging the beauty of the flowers, I fought back quickly forming tears. The injustice of what some children have or do not have is a heartbreaking reality I must face every week.

If she can find beauty in La Chureca, I can too. I find beauty in the people who work to provide for their children and in the mothers who consistently attend health charlas (talks) to learn better health practices. I am encouraged by the mother who makes her child change clothes three times a day to keep clean. I am impressed with mothers I see sweeping the entrance to their homes, cleaning in spite of the fact they live in close proximity to a dump (or perhaps cleaning because of said proximity). Not all are like that here, perhaps not all can be, but the ones who fight for themselves always encourage me.

Walking into La Chureca, I notice every day the bright yellow butterflies which twirl about. They are not ashamed of the smoke, the dirt, the trash. They remain a constant reminder of the life that lives here and of the reason Child Sponsorship is so important. The value and dignity of human life necessitates the meeting of basic needs. For only $20 a month, these children can be provided a means to better health, quality of life, and increased opportunity for a successful way out of the desperate existence which surround them.

To find out more, contact childsponsorship@mannaproject.org.

Yours,

Jan Margaret

Willie Wonka of the Woods

It’s not every day that I’m able to escape the daily grind. When I live, work, socialize, discuss, learn, argue, laugh with the same nine others, day after day, it becomes easy to be focused on the here and now of life. Now granted, when the here and now includes working in Nicaraguan community development, that’s not such a bad thing. However, with the anniversary of both the conquest of William Walker and latin american independence from Spain allowing us a four day vacation weekend, I took the opportunity to escape Managua and Manna for the cool air of the mountains North of Estelí. With four friends, our packs full of extra food, a change of clothes, and our yoga mats, I headed North by bus to Tisey Nature Reserve. Tisey is a land of changing terrain, including rolling tree-covered mountains, fertile valleys, cow pastures, organic farms, and (apparently) the best cheese farm around. Our only self-imposed “rule” for traveling these lands was thus: No talking about Manna.

No talking about Manna?! No discussion of my work, what I’ve lived and breathed for the past two months? My very purpose for being down here? No sharing of stories and frustrations? No lesson planning? No discussion of the house? Nothing?

Yes, nothing. And the decision to take a break from what we have centered our lives around gave me the space to reflect more seriously about the role I’ve played, what I’ve learned, and how I hope to see the community grow. Moreover, the five travelers broke down barriers imposed by the ease with which we center our knowledge of each other on our jobs. We discussed our pasts, the things that make us, us. We laughed, joked, hiked, enjoyed the best gallo pinto I’ve ever tasted, and reveled in once again seeing something new. And we had a fine time doing it! I realized the importance of getting away: to learn about others, to learn about yourself, and to open yourself up to new lessons waiting for you in the chance to travel.

A certain lesson awaited me just down the road from our Eco Posada (Eco Lodge). After a brief hike down the road, through a pasture gate, down the mountainside, past the cows, and over the rocky slope, we were greeted by a man who seemed to have walked right out of the pages of a good novel. Seventy-seven years plus, tall with weathered red skin and a mop of white hair, grizzly stubble, and eyes that seemed they knew the secrets of the world, he welcomed us into his reserve. He was lanky and strong, a man of hard labor, wearing clothes that seemed to be a daily uniform of coffee colored shoes and pants and a loosely buttoned striped shirt. He smelled like a grandfather, the musk of mountainside and tobacco. A sculptor, his name was Alberto, which he proudly showed us chiseled upon rocks along the pathway while explaining that he’d been learning how to read and write. He led us on a personal tour of his art and his land, showing us rocks that had been carved into elephants, camels, self portraits, and guardarbarrancas (the ave nacional of Nicaragua). As we made our way up the hill, he began to pass us fresh mangoes he found along the path. After each of us were happily chomping through our own delicious piece, he continued to discover more of these delicacies which we placed in my companion Daniel’s pack. Next, we saw trees filled with yellow-green grape sized fruits. Adding these to our stomachs and pack, we continued forward, now seeing whole murals etched into the mountainside: an image of September 11, a nativity scene, doves, crosses, sun, moon, and stars. I felt like I was in Willie Wonka’s Chocolate Factory, only instead of chocolate, there were delicious edible fruits to be enjoyed in every direction and wonderful artwork to gaze upon. When we reached the peak, Alberto perched himself on a bench and offered Daniel a smoke. Against the backdrop of the mountains, valley, distant city of Estelí, and his artwork, Alberto shared his story.

During the night of one childhood birthday, he dreamed that he would grow up and share with his people and the world the culture of his country. He dreamed that he would inspire people with art. Over a half-century later, sitting against the mountainside, looking over the beautiful land of lagunas and volcanoes and his handiwork, I can see that Alberto has lived his dream. “Everyone has the five senses that God gives them,” he said, “We just use them in different ways.” Upon descending the mountain, I was challenged to reflect upon the talents and opportunities I’ve been awarded throughout my life and how I’ve used them. I was touched by the tenderness of this man’s care for people for he’d just met, how he’d filled our bags until they were overflowing with fruit, how he’d shared with us his life and dreams, and how he’d inspired me not to doubt my abilities to use each of my five senses to the glory of God and the betterment of my fellow man.

In the same way I was opened to new lessons this weekend, I have been available to learn more in Nicaragua with my focus far from the worries, concerns, and trivialities that plagued me in Nashville. Things I thought were so important, aren’t. Some things I had not valued before, I do. Thank God for my very own Willie Wonka of the woods - a man who, instead of filling me with chocolate and sugar, filled me with the fruits of the fields and the fruits of his labor. A man who taught me never to underestimate the power of dreaming and the ability to do.

Yoga on the mountaintop, in the midst of a cloud

The trail to Alberto's house

Fresh limones

Alberto displays his fruit...

...and his art

"Everyone has the five senses that God gives them. We just use them in different ways."

How am I to use my life?