La Famosa Alexis

I think that most Peace Corps volunteers go into their service expecting to be somewhat of a celebrity in their sites. I guess I just never realized how far my celebrityhood would go. Nicaraguan schools started a new school year at the beginning of February and this past week, I started up again giving health talks (or charlas) in the primary schools. Nicaraguan public education is grim, at best. It basically consists of an undertrained, underenthusiastic teacher reading out loud from a textbook with tons of hyperactive children in uniforms copying down what she says, word for word for five hours a day. Naturally, when I come in with colorful posters, games, songs, and interaction, the kids get excited. Really, really excited.

So, last week, when I entered the school yard during recess, the kids went wild and a group of about ten bum-rushed me. Before I knew what was happening, they were upon me, hugging me, pulling me, and tugging at my shirt and messenger bag. I almost fell over at one point. It was insane. I felt like David Hasselhoff in Germany. They were all trying to drag me to their respective classrooms. It’s nice to know I’m appreciated, but this went almost too far.

Back in my house, things are only slightly calmer. I’m currently studying to take the LSAT in June. I’m not sure that I want to go to law school but I do have the most free time I’ve had since I was about ten years old, so I figured I’d take advantage and study for the test. The Kaplan book I brought back with me from the U.S. lists some of the possible distractions a person might face on test day. Well, perhaps in June I might have to deal with construction, some girl with a hacking cough, and sub zero air conditioning but all of that has nothing on my current studying conditions. As I took my first practice test last week, I only took my fingers out of my ears long enough to fill in the ovals. My neighbors right across the sidewalk were blasting their Sandinista propaganda music while across the river, I could hear the keyboard music and groans from the Evangelical church (Ayyy Señor, si Señor). Throw in some dogs barking, roosters crowing, and babies crying and you have the full soundtrack by which I study.

Over at the casa materna (or maternal waiting home), I learned that my first child is going to be a girl! When I arrived to give my charla on breast feeding, the pregnant ladies were busy foreseeing the sex of their soon-to-be newborns. Using a sonogram wouldn’t be nearly as much fun or possible, so we used a sewing needle suspended from string. The string is held with the needle suspended over the woman’s open palm. If the needle moves back and forth, creating a line, it’s a boy. If the needle starts swinging in circles, it’s a girl. When we tried it out on me, the needle moved in circles, so that answers that. I’ll probably name her one of the popular names down here: Mylady or Derling.

And finally, it seems I have been converted into a “novelera” or someone who watches telenovelas. It’s true, I’m addicted to one soap opera called, “La Mujer en el Espejo,” or the Woman in the Mirror. It’s about this woman who turns ugly at night and is beautiful during the day but if she’s sees her reflection, she and anyone else who is watching, see her ugly side. She works at a makeup corporation where she’s a chemist and has an ongoing flirtation with her engineer boss (who has ridiculous blonde highlights) and of course the fear is that he’ll find out her secret! It is so addictive, I can’t stop watching. I used to look down on soap operas in the U.S. but now I realize what pure genius they are. The Peace Corps is definitely causing some positive changes in me.

Home Sweet Home

In Peace Corps training, we were taught that our service is a lot like a roller coaster. We were told we would experience periods of joy and success as well as periods of failed projects and frustrations. In a way this is true, but as a friend described it, the rollercoaster ride isn't something we experience over months but rather every single day. In other words, from one minute to the next we could go from feeling on top of the world to feeling like we're in some sort of Central American hell. The last couple days perfectly illustrate this.

I left Managua on Monday morning and en route to my site, my wallet was stolen right out of the messenger bag I had on me. Luckily, I realized it quickly, got off the bus at a major city on the way (Juigalpa) and was able to cancel all my Nicaragua debit cards as well as contact home to cancel my debit card there. I lost about $35, which isn't much money but is an amount I can live on in my site for over two weeks. The thing that stings the most is that my UVa student ID from 2000 was in the wallet and I had been so proud of myself for keeping it for so long. It was the old school kind, before the pictures went digital, and I felt a certain ridiculous attachment to it. But, in the words of the all-knowing Hrach Gregorian,"There is no room for sentimentality in the third world."

After being waylaid in Juigalpa, I had to catch a 3 AM bus in order to make it back to my site for an english class I had planned. I can't even really begin to accurately describe how gross it is to wake up at 2:30 AM in order to get on an old school bus and ride down for 7 hours on unpaved highway, but maybe you all can imagine it. As my luck continued, a wonderfully machisto man sat down next to me and offered me his pillow as long as we could share. I told him we wouldn't be sharing and he said that was fine, I could use his pillow and he...decided to use my shoulder! As we bumped along, his head kept purposefully landing on my shoulder and I kept shaking it and moving it to get him off. I was really in no mood to deal with this at 3:30 in the morning. Wouldn't you know it, about 15 minutes later, the bus broke down. We all had to file off and wait in the dark until another crowded bus picked us up an hour later. This bus also broke down at one point but the men onboard were able to fix it and I arrived at my destination extremely dusty but in one piece.

So far it may seem that my rollercoaster was only heading down, down, down but finally at 2 pm, I made it back to my site. As I headed up the hill to drop off my bags in my house, I was accosted by three of my little friends: Maybelline (yup, that's her name), Magdalena, and Yarixa. They all started hugging me and touching my bags and right when I was about to tell them not to do so, they gave me colored pictures of Power Rangers that they had made me in my absence and started chanting, "rah, rah, Alexis! rah, rah, Alexis!" over and over again. So we all made the trip up to my house chanting and pumping our fists in the air and I arrived triumphant at my front door. Finally, the day was getting better.

Back in the center of town, I met some white guys in the street (not a common occurrence). They were from the Discovery Channel UK and were shooting a program on fishing in the Rio San Juan. The name of my town is Boca de Sabalos (mouth of the sabalos) and a sabalos is a tarpin. Apparently, some of the best tarpin fishing in the world goes on right outside my house! So, they invited me to dinner at the hotel in my town and we had a nice night on the water. If any of you are ever in the UK and happen to catch a show called "The Fishing Ambassador," think of me. I met him. The Fishing Ambassador!

Anyway, the last few days were rough but ended on a high note and I guess the lesson is that I should never leave my site. At least not until I head to the beach in a few weeks!

My First

So, after 13 months of living in Nicaragua, I decided it was time to hop on the "blog" train and start this puppy up. I know I stopped writing mass emails after I left training in April and went to my site. It's just that every time I tried to compose a new email, I kept asking myself if it was really interesting enough to impose on people's inboxes. Now, I don't have to impose a thing and people can check in on me as they see fit. A perfect solution. I have to give full credit to Jessica Kelley for my blog endeavor because I enjoy hers so much and found it really easy to just copy everything she did. Thanks Jess!

I'm currently in Managua, in the Peace Corps office with my good buddy Carrie Shumway and we are going to be picked up in about an hour by her "rica nica" roommate to go to a nice mall where we will eat Subway for dinner and see a movie. This is my peace corps lifestyle! I came up to Managua last week in order to give a training session on reproductive health to the group of new health volunteers and made a little weekend out of it. I'll be heading back to my site tomorrow.

Part of the training the new group receives is a visit to a currently serving volunteer's site. So, last week, I got to have a visitor for a few days. It felt a little bizarre to play the role of the knowledgeable volunteer, since I feel like I'm still pretty new at this game but I hope I was able to impart some sort of peace corps wisdom. She and I spent a lovely Valentine's Day together, we took a little canoe ride down the rio sabalos that cuts through my town. I paid my kindly old neighbor man with huge glasses 20 cordobas (a little over a dollar) to row us down and back only to find out he isn't all that kindly. As we rowed along, I asked him how much it would cost to buy a little dugout canoe for myself (something I've been thinking about investing in since I got to my site) and he told me he could make me one for 800 cordobas (50 dollars). I thought this seemed fair enough until we passed a woman and her son in just the type of boat I would like, and he told me he sold her it for 300 cordobas. When I asked him why I would have to pay so much more, he told me it's because I'm a gringa and I get paid in dollars. Now, I get paid in cordobas but the logic still makes no sense to me because whether I were to get paid in dollars or cordobas, it would be the same amount. I suppose in his eyes, dollars are equivalent to little bars of gold. Anyway, I told him there was no way I would buy a canoe from him and I told him he was way off when it came to how much I get paid. He just replied, "no lo creo." He didn't believe me.

As the canoe ride ensued, we passed my house, which overlooks the rio. He told me I lived in a palace, which came as a surprise to me. I had always thought of it as a nicaraguan shack, but one man's trash is another man's treasure. He asked how much I paid in rent and then offered to sell me all the wood from half of his house so I could build my own. As he explained, his wife had taken a lover and he knew it, he was no fool. So, he was selling off her half of the house. As tempting as the offer to dismantle my neighbor's house was, I declined and told him I was perfectly happy in my palace. Of course it was a little uncomfortable to be privy to such private information about my neighbors but as my friends later told me, he tells everyone who steps foot in his boat about his wife's infidelity. They said it's his own way of letting it all out and he's been telling everyone for weeks! I'm glad I was able to be part of his therapy.

I came up to Managua on Thursday, gave the training session on Friday morning, and then headed up to Carrie's site, the great city of Chinandega, where they have recently set up a little race track around the central park for kids to ride power wheels on. For about 50 cents, a little chavalo can rent a corvette or a grave-digger jeep and race around. It's pretty much the coolest thing I have seen in Nicaragua. As we walked to Carrie's house on Friday night, we were almost run over by a little guy trying to figure out how to make his car go forwards. On Saturday, I took the trip up to Villanueva, to visit another friend, Kerry. As I waited for the bus to leave, two 6 year old boys hopped on and started singing songs about sinners in high pitched voices as they clapped loudly in my ears. I have never been more tempted to give money to Jehova's witnesses. Kerry's site is a great site and it's nice to know that all my peace corps buds are living in good places (although not all have power wheels).

So, all is well and never dull in Nicaragua and I hope this blog was interesting enough that you all will actually keep reading it!