English vs. Life

This morning I gave an oral quiz in English class. The quiz was about the past tense (“What did you do yesterday?” “What did you do last weekend?”) and neighborhoods (“Are there any banks in your neighborhood?” “Is there much crime in your neighborhood?”) But before I got to those questions, I asked a simple “How are you?” Greta and I try as much as possible to keep up with what is going on in our students’ lives, but that’s not always easy to do when there are 20 of them. And when we do hear about how they’re doing on a more personal level, we are reminded of just how hard life can be here. It’s not that life isn’t hard in the U.S., it most certainly is, but at least in comparison to the places and situations I come from in the U.S., the people that I’m interacting with here on a daily basis have many more serious and frequent problemas. We have students who are struggling with difficult housemates and divorces, jobs where you work 60+ hours a week and unexpected pregnancies, machismo and transformation, and abusive relationships and insomnia. Not to mention the daily tasks required to run a household, raise children, and simply survive. Again, it’s not that these situations don’t exist in the U.S., but that a simple “How are you?” at the beginning of an English quiz brings an overwhelming torrent of struggle, heartache, and stress from several of my students.

Coro Angel Torrellas on YouTube

Go here to see videos of the CCBN's choir singing a wide range of opera choruses in last year's National Choral Season.

June In Review

So it has been a while since we've updated the blog, which we apologize for, but truly, the last two months have been absolutely crazy. Here's a brief summary of some of our recent activities:

The month of June began with the yearly visit to the CCBN from Immaculate Heart of Mary parish in Cincinnati. IHM has had a twinning relationship with the CCBN for over 10 years, and each year a group of youth and adult chaperones makes a visit to the CCBN to learn about its work, gain some perspective on Nicaragua's reality, and build relationships with the community. Their 3 1/2 day stay at the CCBN was packed full of class visits, puppet shows and play dough with kids, reflections, arts exchanges, and conversations in both broken Spanish and English. One of the highlights of the weekend was Sunday morning's mural painting at the local Carlos Fonseca elementary school, also founded by Fr. Angel Torrellas and Sr. Margarita Navarro. Scholarship students from the CCBN joined forces with the IHM delegation to brighten the perimeter wall of the new preschool area at the school, and CCBN artists collaborated by drawing educational figure outlines on the wall and guiding the youth through the paint process. The wall turned out spectacularly, but more importantly, paint replaced language as a means of cross-cultural communication.

I spent the middle of June back home in Fargo, sharing stories from my work here with some of my community of support and celebrating my parents' 25th wedding anniversary. Initially, setting foot on U.S. soil (aka the Houston airport) after a year was a little overwhelming, but the support of my friends and family made the visit incredibly meaningful and a lot of fun. I was able to do a presentation on my time here to close friends and family, as well as visit with my church about my work. Favorite moments included eating lots of dessert with my best friend, playing mini-golf with my brother, and getting driven everywhere by my parents because I was too scared to get behind the wheel after a year!

Then, I hit the ground running by arriving back in Nicaragua the same evening as another group from Cincinnati, this time made up of a dozen soon-to-be seniors at St. Ursula's all-girls school and two of their teachers. These young ladies spent their time taking in both the rural and urban reality in Nicaragua, as well as sharing with a small group of CCBN youth about school, relationships, the World Cup, and whatever else might come up in conversation. After learning a little Nicaraguan folklore from the dance group, the St. Ursula's girls taught the dancers here the Cha-Cha Slide. So much laughter!

The weekend of July 4th was our semester closing at the CCBN. Instead of a graduation ceremony, the Cierre Cultural was a cultural extravaganza. Music, theater, food, painting, handicrafts, and dance, including our own performance with the Latin Rhythms class, made for a fun morning of sharing art, laughter, and nerves.

Now, it's back to a regular routine of English class and arts youth activities for me. I'm hoping to get more involved with the CCBN's new gender violence prevention project, so more on that coming soon.

Community Organizing

Last week I spent three days at a Cantera workshop learning about community development and organizing. We reflected on what works and what doesn’t when it comes to community organizing in a Nicaraguan context, and we shared a lot about our personal organizing experiences. Cantera workshops are always excellently facilitated, and I particularly enjoyed this one because it gave me so many good, concrete tools that I can use in my work at the CCBN. One of the greatest strengths of Cantera workshops is the diversity present in the room. People from all over the country, from NGO’s, from political organizations, and both paid workers and volunteers with a variety of educational backgrounds and economic circumstances, come together to share their experiences and learn from one another.

One of the most fascinating aspects of the workshop for me was seeing so many of the same theoretical concepts that I had learned at Industrial Areas Foundation’s national training in 2008, but with different methodological tools. For example, IAF’s basic organizing tool is the relational meeting, sitting down with someone one-on-one and probing them about their hopes, fears, and dreams, in order to identify their self-interest. At Cantera’s workshop, we learned about the importance of self-interest and of tapping into people’s dreams, but instead of starting with a relational meeting, Cantera gave us la muñeca, or the doll, as our initial organizing tool. You being by drawing the figure of a doll on butcher paper. Placing the community’s dream at the head of the doll, the committee writes down their resources and places those at the right arm of the doll. Next they place challenges at the left arm of the doll, and their personal commitments at the heart of the doll. Finally, the group makes a list of the initial steps that need to be taken to make the dream come true and places those at the doll’s feet. This tool is very effective in terms of visually laying out where the community stands in relation to their dream. Seeing these methodological differences caused me to reflect on how context determines effective organizing strategies. In the U.S. organizing context, we are looking for a way to take a much more individualistic culture and make it about community, whereas here, the assumption is that there is already an organized structure in place in the community, and that an outsider (such as an NGO) must learn to work within that structure.

gatito documentary

Good Friday morning. It was hot, and I was still in bed groggily trying to decide if I would be able to sleep a little longer in spite of the heat and take advantage of my vacation while it lasted. The Center was closed during Holy Week except for evening choir rehearsals. As wonderful as it is to listen to all the CCBN’s activities, it sure was nice to sleep in past 8am without being woken up by trombone lessons or recorder class. However, instead of the normal musical din I soon began to hear different kinds of sounds coming from outside, just below my window. It sounded like a kitten. I remembered that the volunteers who lived in the house before us had gained a reputation for taking care of unwanted strays. Groaning inwardly, I rolled over and decided that if it was still there when I woke up again I would figure out what to do with it.

Sure enough, when I opened the front door mid-morning, I found a wee bit of a kitten crying miserably in the corner of the porch. It was still wobbly on its little legs and obviously couldn’t have climbed up the steps by itself, so someone must have left it. Funny, people usually take things from our porch, not leave them (e.g., laundry drying on the line).

I had never taken care of a kitten this tiny, and Amanda hadn’t had any pets at all growing up. Luckily, Laura, one of the previous FOB volunteers and daughter of a veterinarian, had left us a small baby bottle and powdered infant formula for just such occasions. At his arrival, the kitten was so tiny that he even had trouble taking milk from a bottle, and one eye was swollen shut. Now, his eye has healed thanks to some drops, his fleas are gone thanks to a bath, and his little tummy is getting quite plump. He’s even starting to scamper and loves nothing more than to sit between our feet while we are cooking or washing dishes, making it a bit awkward for us to move around the kitchen without stepping on him.

Few of our Nicaraguan friends are as taken with the little guy as we are, but our friend, co-volunteer and freelance filmmaker Melissa Engle has put together a little documentary based on her observations, featured above. At first we were looking to give him away, but no one really seemed interested. Now we’re rather fond of the little guy (okay, okay, I admit I was ready to keep him from the start, but it seemed like Amanda needed a little more time to get used to the idea).

So far we’ve just been calling him “gatito” or “kitty” (not very creative, but easier than felis catus). Other suggestions have been Garfield, Fuzz, and Samson, but we may just end up calling him Tiger. If nothing else, it’ll give him something to aspire to.

Center Profiles: Ansony Gutierrez Jimenez

How old are you?
24

What was your first experience at the Center?
My first experience was studying the first level of Adult Basic Education. I got to know a lot of friends through this experience. It was both a fun and sad experience because I was scared to go to the Center sometimes, I was nervous about participating.

What do you currently do at the Center?
I help the guys. I help with security and maintenance, and I’m also in the painting class. The painting class is not easy, when I started, I couldn’t imagine getting involved, it’s a scary thing to put yourself out there, but if you say you can’t, you won’t be able to, and if you say you can, you can. The hardest thing about painting is painting faces. I’ve been painting for almost four years. I still remember my first painting, which I gave to my Adult Basic Education teacher, it was of a boy with a beautiful background of a tree with leaves in the fall, and around the tree were a bunch of kids. Painting has helped me economically because I sell my paintings and that’s helped me meet a lot of people.

Where do you live, and who lives at your house?
I live in Batahola Sur, and I live with my grandmother, two uncles, one aunt, and two cousins.

Who, of those that live at your house, work, and what do they do?
Only one of my uncles works. He works in a cosmetics store.

What do you like to do in your free time?
I like to go out, hang out with my friends, wash my clothes, iron, and go to the gym.

What is your biggest dream?
My biggest dream is to be with my mom in the United States. She has lived in Miami for 14 years and I haven’t seen her since she left.

What is your biggest fear?
My biggest fear is walking into a haunted house!

Why is the Center important to you?
The Center is important to me because I like helping the guys, they help me too, and I’ve learned I don’t need to be too proud. I go to the Center to leave behind my sadness. Once you enter here, you lose your sadness. My sadness is that my house doesn’t have food, that I’ll have to go to bed without eating.

Gender Equality

Last week I attended a 4-day Gender Equality workshop run by Cantera, a local Center for Communication and Popular Education. Cantera tries to address gender inequality as an issue for everyone-not just female feminists. After the initial session, men and women broke off into separate groups.

The women’s workshop focused on themes of identity and social conditions. Most of the activities revolved around sharing personal experiences and working in groups. We filled several sheets of flipchart paper with ideas of who we want to be as women. We sat in small groups on the floor and shared our life stories, then used elements of our own stories to make a composite biography of an imaginary woman for each group. As each group read their story in plenary, the same themes kept emerging-abuse, abandonment, limited access to education, single motherhood, poverty.

One exercise that really hit home for me was our reflection on unattained dreams. As a microphone was passed around the room, each woman shared briefly about a dream that she had been unable to pursue. Overwhelmingly, the women expressed their desires to study. Woman after woman told of how she had wanted to go to school, but because her family was poor she had to work in the fields instead, or take care of her siblings, or had become pregnant as a teenager, or had been told that girls don’t need to study because they should be working at home. When the microphone came to me, I passed it on silently, as did the other three foreign volunteers in the room. I have been incredibly blessed with opportunities to follow all my dreams-working overseas, being a “missionary”, going to college, even performing with a professional symphony. I surveyed the room full of women, many of whom are organizers in their communities, and listened to their stories. They had been denied the chance to study-not because they lacked the desire or willingness to work hard, but because of poverty and their social roles as females.

Workshop participants came from all over the country and ranged in ages from teenagers to late 50’s. It seems that most of us work for various NGO’s or community organizations that sponsored them to come so that they could pass on what they learn.

Some of the women I talked with during breaks and lunch in the cafeteria have already been working for years in their communities to teach women about their rights and better social conditions. Victoria, an impressive woman in her 50’s, is a founding member of an all-women-owned cooperative shrimp farm. When she and 35 other women first started working together, the men in their community taunted them, saying they would never turn a profit, that it was man’s work. However, the project turned out to be quite profitable and years later it’s still going strong. Maximina, a 40-something mother and activist from Managua, used to work in a factory under poor conditions, subject to mistreatment by supervisors. “They forced us to work overtime, they didn’t pay us our full salary, and sometimes they even hit the workers.” Then she met a woman from a national feminist movement. She began to learn about her human rights and organize other women in her factory. Instead of firing her, Maximina’s managers saw her leadership potential and made her a supervisor! She eventually quit working in the factory to do workshops with women in her community.

For me, a volunteer working in a different culture, the workshop was incredibly helpful for understanding the disadvantages and dreams common to many women in Nicaragua. And for helping me cope with the frustration I often feel when interacting with men here. And for dreaming of how relationships between men and women here as well as back home would look if/when we achieve true equality.

VMM Video

Check out this video about the work VMM is doing around the world, including interviews with several missioners.

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.