Waslala

Jose Angel and Erick leading the workshop


Sorting clothes


Me playing Twister


Youth working together


Melissa and Grismaylin carrying supplies


Waslala's natural beauty


Semana Santa, or Holy Week, is a glamorous affair for many in Nicaragua. Attending religious services seemingly takes a backseat to trips to the beach, time with friends, and lots of partying. While many of us in the U.S. (me included) may consider this a week of religious reflection, for many Nicaraguans the hottest time of the year plus universal vacation time equals heading out of the city for some rest and relaxation.

The Youth Group I work with headed out of Managua along with everyone else, but for a slightly different reason. We spent four days in Waslala, a rural area northeast of Managua devastatingly affected by the Contra War in the 1980’s. Because of its distance from Managua, the region is neglected by the government and has limited access to resources. However, it is also an absolutely beautiful part of the country and is actually a protected nature reserve. Within this brief sketch of Waslala you can see the many contradictions and the ways in which life in this region is difficult for its inhabitants.

This was the Youth Group’s second annual visit, and our objectives were to share with the community of Waslala by delivering clothing and school supply donations, leading a self-esteem workshop with children, and learning from the youth and communities about their organizations.

Our time in Waslala was filled with experiential learning:

•What do you do when you’ve run out of food to feed over 100 people who have come to share with you?
•How do you make sure one activity runs smoothly while the next activity is being prepared?
•How do you divide up tasks as a team, making sure everyone feels included AND is doing their share?
•How do you keep a group of 50 children entertained and learning about self-esteem when they range in age from 2 to 12?
•How do you balance learning from the community you’re visiting and sharing your own passions and skills with them?

These are just a few of the tough issues we confronted and learned from as a group. Obviously, there is endless potential for leadership development and teamwork in this experience. The Youth Group did an excellent job responding to these issues, organizing themselves, and learning from one day to the next how to make their events run more smoothly. We also experienced profound sharing with the youth in Waslala who accompanied us every step of the way.

One insight from a group member that particularly struck me was: “These communities don’t need our help. We need to come here and learn from them how to better-organize ourselves.” Exactly.

Going to the Venta

It’s 6:30pm, and Amanda and I are just getting home. Hmmmm, not much in the kitchen to cook for dinner...luckily, there are several ventas all within two blocks of our house in Batahola. Ventas are like small convenience stores, usually on the porch or front room of someone’s home. While you can usually find all the staples such as rice, beans, oil and sugar, there isn’t much to choose from as far as produce is concerned, beyond the crucial onions, tomatoes and plantains. The venta is also a convenient place to buy prepaid minutes for our cell phones

Most of the items sold at the venta can be bought per unit rather than per package. You can get one egg for 15 cents, a stick of butter for about a dollar. Rice, beans, and sugar are sold per pound. You can buy a single roll of toilet paper, and even bring in an empty plastic soda pop bottle to refill with vegetable oil. This makes it easier for households that rely on a small daily cash income to buy only what they need for the next meal. Also, it’s not really common to stock up on cooking ingredients here, since not every home has a refrigerator.

The abundance of ventas makes me think that they’re a popular small business venture. Venta owners can start out small by buying a few products and gradually expand their inventory. And there is the convenience of working at home, where you can take care of your kids, clean or cook meals whenever there are no customers. According to statistics, most venta owners are women. However, it seems that I have seen multiple family members sharing the tasks in every venta I’ve been to.

For us, the best part thing about the ventas is that they are close enough that it only takes a few minutes to get last minute dinner or breakfast supplies. The problem is remembering to get everything we need in one trip!

Solidarity, Art, and Change

Recognizing and taking advantage of the potential for human development and not just artistic development in arts formation is an integral part of the mission of the CCBN, a goal that is being realized through retreats, recreational activities, and gender discussions with the arts groups. I have spent several evenings and Saturdays in retreats and discussions with youth from all the arts groups at the CCBN: choir, orchestra, theater, painting, and dance. We’ve played, we’ve sung, we’ve danced, and we’ve shared about our experiences as artists and as young people.

Before the closing retreat, several of the youth expressed concern to me that they wouldn’t get along well with the youth from the other groups. Seats on the bus were clearly divided by arts group, and our initial circle of chairs was also pretty segregated. By the end of the day, though, everyone was mixed up, laughing and sharing their art with each other.

I’ve been interviewing some of the youth to document their reactions to the events and get their ideas for the future. Many have shared that they learned much about the values of solidarity, respect, and camaraderie. But what most struck them is the way in which they were able to share with members of the other arts groups, despite the fact that they had never really gotten to know each other before. The youth are energized, and they are taking that energy back to their rehearsals and performances, strengthening both their artistry and their sense of identity.

Recognizing God in the Tiniest Flicker

Last weekend Greta and I attended Volunteer Missionary Movement’s annual retreat in El Salvador. We gathered with our fellow Central American VM’s and shared stories about our work and the current political situation in our countries, reflected on how we’ve changed since beginning our time with VMM, and recalled what it means to be a missioner for life. Edwina Gateley, founder of VMM, joined us for the retreat, sharing her wisdom on being part of the movement.

Edwina reminded us that our “mission” with VMM is not simply a two-year stint, but a lifetime commitment to bringing about the reign of God by working for peace and justice. I feel pretty uncomfortable calling myself a “missionary,” and it was good to be reminded that the kind of mission VMM is talking about is not an evangelical one. Instead of bringing God to the people, Edwina talked about learning to recognize God, both in ourselves and in those around us. For us as volunteers this was a an affirmation that no matter what challenging circumstances we find ourselves in (and they are numerous), we should know God is with us, and remember to recognize the ways in which God is moving in our lives. Edwina explained that all we have to do is find the tiniest flicker of hope and know that God is present. For the communities with whom we are serving, we affirm their recognition of God’s presence. It is not about bringing God, or even finding God, but creating opportunities and spaces for community members to recognize God in their own lives. In this way, mission becomes a mutual exchange of support and affirmation.

We also spent time discussing the political and social realities of each of the countries we are serving in and in Central America as a region. Currently, VMM has missioners in Guatemala, El Salvador, and Nicaragua. Tim Muth, a VMM board member who joined us on the retreat, has a great blog on all things El Salvador. He and the other volunteers in El Salvador talked about the gang violence gripping El Salvador and the politics behind the campaign against it. Those of us from Nicaragua struggled to explain the tension between social programs and corruption under Daniel Ortega. For more information on this ongoing Nicaraguan debate, read NACLA articles that offer both a more positive view of Ortega and a more critical perspective.

Obama and Latin America

Here's an excellent article by the Council on Hemispheric Affairs that reviews Obama's first year in office in terms of his Latin American policy.

Facing Poverty and Privilege

I have no idea what the word “poverty” really means. In the United States, “poverty” is the government designation for the income level at which a family of a certain size cannot meet their “basic needs.” In Nicaragua, poverty means living on less than a few dollars a day. So is poverty relative? I don’t really know. But whatever you call it when someone can’t make ends meet or they skip a meal so their kids don’t have to or they work five jobs and barely scrape by or their children are exceptionally small because they were malnourished at some point, how do those of us with more than enough money and security in our state of excess respond to it? Do we throw money at the situation, give away all we have, lend money, refuse to give money because we believe in justice, or do we simply make sure never to be in a situation where we’re faced with that choice?

I certainly don’t actively seek out people who society labels “poor” just to force myself to face my privilege. But here in Nicaragua, I can’t choose to avoid it as easily as I can in the U.S. Whether it’s my friend asking me for a loan for her son’s school registration fee, a neighbor coming by my house asking for food, a blind man begging on the bus, or an English student who can’t afford their textbook, I frequently feel a familiar pang of guilt mixed with I’m-a-graduate-of-a-liberal-arts-college-and-we-have unpacked-our-privilege mixed with helplessness mixed with relief: “I’m glad I have the money not to be in that situation.”

Did I really just say that? Yup. Truth be told, it’s uncomfortable to ask for a loan or a handout, and I thank God (not every day, just when I’m faced with the issue) that I don’t struggle to pay my bills and can by a ticket home whenever I want. And that’s when I’m living on a volunteer’s stipend.

So aside from mixed feelings and the urge to run away, what do I do when I face a blind man on the bus asking me for money? I passively stare straight ahead (or out the window), don’t give him anything, and then I reflect on the pop culture question ‘What would Jesus do?’ Certainly not what I just did. I conclude that not only am I not Jesus, but our world is so broken I firmly believe that the “right” thing to do is the opposite of what Jesus would do.

I’ve been taught from a young age that handouts are not great – not justice, not the way to bring someone out of poverty, better to give your money to an organization who can distribute it properly. Whatever that means. Being a Christian, especially a Catholic, means justice, not charity. Which means God wants systemic change, genuine equality, not $.25 handouts. So I don’t give money. Because of that lesson, and because I selfishly don’t want to play the game where every time someone approaches me for money I debate their sincerity and make a judgment, more likely to be based in racism, classism, ageism, sexism, and outfit-ism, than anything else. I’d rather not dirty myself with those kinds of judgments. So I avoid eye contact and reflect on the fact that I think I’m actually pretty sure Jesus would give money to every person that asked for it. Never mind that that might be a lot of people, and never mind that they might spend it on drugs or alcohol or other sinful substances. Jesus would not judge, he would simply show love in the moment and share of himself, perhaps offering a word of encouragement or kindness. (Of course, he would do all this without being the least bit patronizing and while continuing to work for systemic change in other ways. But that’s a whole other issue). And so I hold tightly to my money, feeling disgusted with myself that on one of the rare occasions I actually feel pretty certain about what Jesus would do, I can’t even bring myself to follow in his footsteps because it’s just not “right” in today’s world.

Luchando for Christmas All Year ‘Round

For me, what most significantly marks Christmas here is the choir music. Instead of singing about angels, Santa, and even the traditional Nativity scene, most of our Christmas carols talk about Christmas as a state of being, one marked by conscience, solidarity, and action. During the Christmas season I sang over and over again about how Christmas should be present the whole year around in the struggle for social justice and the way we relate to one another.

For example, in “Navidad sin estruendo” or “Christmas without Thunder,” the chorus says:

“To Bethlehem we come and go by pathways of joy, and God is born in each one who devotes themselves to others. To Bethlehem we come and go by pathways of justice, and in Bethlehem people are born when they learn to struggle.”

The word luchar, which I’ve translated here as “struggle,” is the principle word used in Spanish to describe that state of working towards and hungering for social justice. To understand the miracle of Christmas as the birthing of luchadores/as, or “strugglers for social justice,” is striking because we usually associate images of gentleness and passivity with the Christmas story. Struggle, however, has little to do with sitting and waiting patiently. How much more meaningful is the Nativity scene when we reflect on the difficult journey that brought Mary and Joseph to the stable, and when we remember the struggle that Jesus chose in his adult ministry? As a poor, unwed-but-pregnant couple, Mary and Joseph were labeled as sinners by their society, but instead of listening to the criticism, they chose to glorify God by following his plan for them. And as a prophet speaking truth-to-power, Jesus faced both political and personal adversity, glorifying God with his peaceful but revolutionary stance.

The second and third verses of this carol talk about the people awaiting a rich, submissive, kingly figure as their Christ, and how instead, they got a poor but powerful-with-words baby who denounces oppression and proclaims liberation in the name of God. Of course, I, too, love the image of Jesus as a babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger. But that image moves me more when I, like Mary, ponder in my heart the future of the baby and how I can radicalize those around me in the name of Love and Justice (aka God).

The song goes on to say in its final verse:

“Christmas is a pathway that doesn’t produce a great thunder, because God resounds within those who walk in brotherhood. Christmas is the miracle of going door-to-door and finding out if our brother needs our bread.”

And so it isn’t about changing the world alone, miraculously birthing a divine but human savior, or gift-giving. It’s about an awareness of and willingness to struggle with those around us for God’s abundant life.

Click here to hear the choir singing another Christmas carol.

Cookie Monsters

Twas mid-December, and all through the house not a creature was stirring, except maybe a mouse...and Amanda and I decorating for Christmas as we strung up a line of white lights on our porch, a batch of Betty Crocker cookies baking in the toaster oven. Stepping back to admire the effect of our Christmas decoration, we noticed the distinct aroma of charred cookies. (Luckily you can't make too many cookies at a time in a toaster oven, so we had plenty of dough left to try again). Suddenly, there arose such a clatter in the street in front of our house that we went to see what was the matter. We found a group of eight little boys from the neighborhood, probably ranging in age from 8 to 13 years old. They were clamoring for water and making smooching sounds at us: "Hey, Sweetheart! Bring me water!" "Hey, gringa!"

This immediately caught our attention. As self-proclaimed feminists, we knew we couldn't allow this kind of behavior to continue. Amanda began a dialogue with the boys while I ferried cups of water back and forth. She asked the biggest boy why he was making the smooching sounds.

"Because he likes you!" the younger ones chorused.

"Well," Amanda explained, "when you like a girl, you have to get to know her first before you call her sweetheart and get her permission to kiss her. Do you like it when people do things to you without your permission?"

"No..." another boy answered.

"Well, that's how I feel when you say those things to me."

Lesson over, they smelled blackened chocolate chip cookies and insisted we give them some. Since you can't bake many cookies at one time in a toaster oven, we only had a few cookies to give away. Amanda told them they would have to share two cookies between them.

"We don't care, we want cookies!"

So Amanda doled out pieces of the two crispy cookies, which were greedily snatched up by the boys, who didn't seemed as interested in sharing after all. When the cookies were gone, the boys wandered away and Amanda and I returned to the kitchen to experiment ways to bake cookies without burning them. Five minutes later, we heard the same commotion in front of our house. "Hey sweetheart!" and more smoochy sounds. Amanda stalked out angrily and announced that they were being disrespectful and they couldn't be friends anymore.

When even this didn't deter them, I went out and threw a bucket of water on them.

Once it quieted down again I had a chance to think about what had just happened. Feelings of frustration lingered, and I remembered that at the gym that evening a bunch of teenage boys had also been catcalling at me as they passed by. Was I supposed to put up with it in my own house, too? Then I felt guilty for having resorted to violence, even though it was only a bucket of water, to resolve the situation.

I wonder what Mother Theresa would have done.

The U.S. Economy and Immigration Reform

Recently, the Center for American Progress and the Immigration Policy Center released a report detailing how comprehensive immigration reform will not only cause economic growth but is necessary to boost the faltering U.S. economy. The report, complete with economic analysis of three immigration policy scenarios, and written by UCLA economist and founder of the North American Integration and Development Center Dr. Raúl Hinojosa-Ojeda, can be found below. Or, for a quick summary, watch this interview with Angela Kelley, VP for Immigration Policy and Advocacy at the Center for American Progress.

Immigration Report - Complete

All You Need is Love

Check out the CCBN Choir (including me!) singing the Beatles' "All You Need is Love" on www.starbucksloveproject.com.

Purísima

“Tu gloria, tu gloria, gozoso este día, O dulce María, publica mi voz, O dulce María, publica mi voz…” These are the words to a popular chorus dedicated to Mary that is heard all over Nicaragua during the days leading up to December 8^th. The flutes at the CCBN, the choir, the recordings at the mall, people humming on the street – pretty much everyone has the catchy tunes stuck in their heads. And not an hour goes by (not even the early morning hours) when you don’t hear a loud boom coming from a firecracker. All this bulla (or joyful racket) is setting up for what is known in the Catholic world as the feast of Mary’s Immaculate Conception (her conception, not Jesus’), or Purísima as it is known here. To celebrate, many people construct altars in their houses to honor Mary. Then, on the evening of December 7^th, old and young alike go out for the Gritería (basically, this translates to “Yelling Fest”). Groups of friends and family go door-to-door and sing one (or sometimes several) of the traditional Marian tunes after beginning with the greeting “¿Quien causa tanta alegría?” (“Who causes such joy?”) and response “¡La concepción de María!” (“Mary’s conception!”) Then, the members of the household give out sweets, fruit, or other goodies to the singers. It’s a lot like Halloween in the U.S. with a few tweaks.

For many, the celebration is an excuse to go out and make merry, but for others this celebration is deeply spiritual. Many are giving thanks to Mary for answered prayer. For example, the Arts Coordinator at the CCBN told me about some of the blessings he has received from the Virgin. Suffering from cancer and struggling through chemo a few years ago, he woke up one night crying out to the Virgin, asking her to end his pain. Soon after, his doctors told him he could stop chemo, and today he is cancer-free. He gives thanks to the Virgin every year with his family, usually waiting until the popular celebrations have subsided to honor her in a more personal way. I, too, joined in the festivities Monday evening, finally able to sing along after having learned the songs with the choir. I was struck by the joy and diversity that marks this yearly celebration as one of the most important on the Nicaraguan calendar.

FOBV Retreat

Last week Greta and I had the opportunity to take a two-day retreat to Granada for some relaxation, planning, and reflection. We had an incredibly rich experience, getting away from the bustle and noise of Managua and finding a peaceful space to do some long-term thinking for FOBV. We talked about our role as accompaniment at the Center, discussed ways to strengthen our relationships with VMM, FOB, and the CCBN, reflected the challenges we’ve experienced in the first five months of our program, and planned for our spiritual life, the blog, and next year’s English class. In the midst of all that we made time for some sweet chocolate pancakes and walked around picturesque Granada, enjoying the colonial architecture and people-watching.

One of the most interesting conversations we had was about how we see our task of “accompaniment.” While a lot of different definitions may exist, we envision accompaniment as a role that involves asking key questions (especially “why?”), working on collaboration by connecting key project members, keeping the project moving, and encouraging a group to focus on their reality. I’m not sure what I thought accompaniment would look like when I first got here, but now I feel strongly about how important it is to keep our role sustainable by being “accompaniers” instead of “leaders” or “organizers.” If Greta and I left tomorrow, the projects we are involved in would continue just fine without us. While our role in them is important, the projects do not revolve around our ideas and actions; rather, we support and encourage the projects as they grow out of the initiatives of CCBN staff.

In terms of the blog, we discussed our goals and what kind of a voice we want it to have. We feel that as two volunteers living and working in a Nicaraguan context, we can share our personal experience on the blog as a way to give our friends and family in the U.S. insight into Nicaraguan life without presuming to represent the entire country and people. Our major goal is to cause our readers to think “Oh, I didn’t realize that...I wonder why that is?” So please, let us know if you react like this!

After all the reflection on our first five months at CCBN, we returned to Managua Wednesday afternoon feeling refreshed and excited about the next stage of our term here. We really are part of an exciting and dynamic program and are learning tons. In fact, one of our main problems is that time is flying too fast to enjoy it all!