how many people can you fit in a micro-van?

Answer: a whole heck of a lot.

This past weekend was a wonderful time of travel and adventure in Leon! After dinner at a fun Thai restaurant in downtown Managua on Friday night, we went to bed early so we could wake up REAL early to catch the bus on saturday morning. After arriving at the center we were supposed to leave from, we discovered that there was a huge line of people waiting for micro-vans to get to Leon. We got at the end of the line and started stressing, worried that we wouldn't make it in time to go volcano boarding. As we were waiting, a rando white micro drove by with a guy shouting out the window "LEON! LEON! LEON!" (totally not sketchy, mom :) ) The rest of my group (5 other vol's) and I looked at each other and started sprinting. We jumped in the van and eventually, every seat was taken. But apparently, there is a different definition for "full" in Nicaragua. As we drove, the guy kept yelling out the window "LEON! LEON! LEON!" to every person we passed at a bus stop. People kept getting on and would stand or sit in the smallest corners of the van...we kept looking at each other like "this is crazy!" At one point, I counted upwards of 20 people in this small little vehicle. It was so hilarious.

Luckily, we made it with time to spare to our hostel, where we were leaving from to go board down a volcano called Cerro Negro. The hike up the volcano was gorgeous in the strangest way. Everything was dead, black ash. On top of that, it was raining and misty, and the higher we got up, the more clouds would enclose around us. I felt like I was on Mars, or on my way to Mordor or something. Often, the clouds would break, and instantly our breath would be taken away by the gorgeous view (and the fact that we suddenly discovered that we were VERY high up and on a very narrow path). Once getting to the top, we put on these stylish (sarcasm) orange jumpsuits and goggles and got on our wooden boards to head down the volcano. I won't lie...when I looked over that cliff, my heart started pounding kind of hard. But it ended up being relatively slow because of the moisture in the ash. It was really fun though...I even beat Trey when we raced! (how do you like that for a shout out, Tres?) Quite an extraordinary experience :)

Other than volcano boarding, we also got to enjoy Leon for the night. Well, we tried to. We went out to a bar, but were all so exhausted after the hike and waking up at the crack of dawn that we almost fell asleep at our table. It was also pretty dead (and strangely sketchy) in Leon at night, which was surprising. So it was an early evening, but we still managed to snag some Eskimo (ice cream!), making it a total success.

After sleeping incredibly well, we woke up and ate our free breakfast (incredible coffee and a delicious bagel egg thing) and headed out to wander around. We went to a really wonderful art museum that I recommend if you are ever in the city. It's at an old presidential residence and has some incredible pieces. After the museum, we hit up the market and went to see some old cathedrals. It was nice to get to enjoy the city without rain!

There is something so fun about traveling around and just figuring it out as you go. Without any PD's with us or anyone who had been to the city before, it was all very fly-by-the-seat-of-our-pants, in a good way. We met this really cool couple in our volcano group. The guy was a stockbroker and the women worked for the Olympics. They both sold everything they owned, left their jobs, and decided to travel for as long as they could afford. Nicaragua is their third stop, and they are flying out to Hong Kong in a week or so. It all sounds like a dream! We also met several awesome people at our hostel, (many of whom are from Australia, where it's typical for young people to travel after high school or university) who just got us thinking about how planned out and standard our lives usually are. We spend so much time worrying about fitting into this certain time-line of success that I think we often forget about what really matters: soaking up all the crazy wonderful things in life and going out to see and experience this beautiful earth.

PHOTOS: 1) on the truck which gave a rollercoaster-esque, hour long ride to the volcano, 2) starting the hike, 3) up the rocks and into the clouds, 4) our group at the top...soaked and about to be swallowed by a cloud in the background, 5) checking out the run, 6) peering over the edge and lookin' good, 7) me at the bottom, after I washed off all sorts of ash debris (which I am still finding in my hair)...see that little speck above my head? that's a person, 8) driving away from what we climbed, 9) streets of Leon = lots of color, 10) a crooked picture of the old cathedral, 11) more street, 12) another cathedral

p.s.

I just finished My Sister's Keeper and sobbed for a good ten minutes. oh, and it's still raining non-stop here (I am convinced that all of Nicaragua is going to wash away if this keeps up any longer) and it just makes me want to sit on my bed and cry more. Stupid book.

nueva sonrisa

Is it weird for me to say that I just can't wait to be a mom? (Don't freak out, parents. I'm not planning on that happening for several years) This morning, Kelsey (one of the summer vol's) and I walked to Farito for preschool. We got to help out with a Mother's Day party they were having. All these precious little ninos came with their madres and sang them cute little songs about how much they love them and then we ate cake and drank coca-cola. I was just melting the whole time. It was just a beautiful thing to witness and to be a small part of - celebrating motherhood, celebrating children. As silly as it sounds, it made me homesick for my own mom and at the same time made me so excited for the day when I get to understand the other part of that relationship dynamic, when I get to understand what it means to love your own child. (Oh gosh, Taylor & Kirsten are going to have a field day mocking me about this post)

On the way home, Kelsey and I nearly had to outrun a flash flood. All the sudden we looked ahead and a river was barreling down the road at us. It was funny because it seemingly came from nowhere. At the top, we stopped and stood by Mi Comarca (our favorite venta) to watch it swallow the whole road. Gabe got off a bus just as we were doing this and I when I saw him, I said "Gabe! This is CRAZY!" and he just laughed and said "Oh, this happens every time there is heavy rain." So funny.

It's been a very busy past few days and I've loved every second of it. Yesterday I got to walk around Chureca a bit before English class, which was super tuani (that's street for "really cool") I walked over to the school before class to play with kids, but I got there too late and they were already done with recess, which was a bummer. The rain made it impossible to take the back road to get in, so we walked that part too. It is crazy to see houses with tin walls covered in soda-advertisements and kids running around with no shoes, etc. What's even crazier is that I have learned that Chureca is actually preferable to other more rural parts of Nicaragua. Don't get me wrong, it's unfathomable poverty. But they have access to running water, a free health clinic, and various NGO's that are in the area. So things are bad, but they are even worse elsewhere. The idea that there are things to be grateful for in Chureca seems unreal, but the more I spend time there, the more I see it as a place of laughing kids and joy than simply a place of extreme darkness.

I've been helping out the past few days at this center for kids with disabilities called Teseros de Dios. It is just the neatest place ever and I love the happy feeling I get simply being there. Their vision is to minister to kids and their families and to create the best possibilities they can for children with physical or mental handicaps. They have a physical therapy room, a bible study center, a horse therapy program, and so much more. It's awesome. Manna doesn't work directly with them, but I heard about it from another volunteer and just decided to check it out. On Wednesday, I went for the first time. Joanna and I helped make some crafts for lessons and spent some time helping Ivania, a staff member with a huge smile and a bigger laugh, with her English homework. I liked it so much that I went back Thursday (yesterday) just to hang out and see how I could help. When I walked in, I couldn't find Michelle anywhere (she's the woman who started the center and the only one who speaks fluent English there), so I thought to myself, "Welp, looks like I'm speaking Spanish today." After explaining myself (or trying to) Ivania came down and finally found me and had a huge smile on her face. We went upstairs to her office and I helped her with some random things for her classes (she also works with a kid who has autism, so I helped make some crafts she will use with him) and she played me "American" music. It was so relaxing and fun to practice my Spanish with her and to in turn help her with English. I'm excited to keep going back.

The center is really close to the Land, so after I left, I walked to Women's Exercise. It's on a really rural road, and as I was walking, the rain was lightly falling and it was very quiet. All of the sudden, I hear a loud "MOOOO!" and turn around. Seriously two feet behind me was a large vaca (cow) and a young boy who couldn't be more than 8. Apparently they had been walking quietly behind me. I screamed a little and then just lost it....it was such a hysterical scene. I think my loud laughter at this probably frightened the boy more than the cow frightened me. Oh well...just a typical Nica stroll, I guess :)

Throughout the past week, I've had thoughts and frustrations in thinking about how my time here matters. It's so easy to think that I'll come in as some privileged super-hero and save the day. Yes, serving other people does make a difference, and I do believe that what Manna is doing and what I'm doing is great and beneficial to these communities. But it's a hard balance to remember that it isn't all about what I'm doing for other people - it's more of what they're doing for me. And when I think about it, service is really about what God is doing, how He's working His plan of redemption out in me and in others daily. I think of a few days ago when I went to 13.5 with Jan and we hung out at Carmen's house. Five people live there, in a space half the size of my bedroom -seriously. And God, are they happy. And just having those moments of realization...that is what is changing me. What is changing me is people's kindness when I did nothing to earn it. What is changing me is little Tatiana braiding my hair, or my friend at House of Hope who gave me the bible verse, and the people at the disabilities center who welcomed me with open arms.

As I was in Ivania's office yesterday, I was thinking about all these things, and thinking of the ways that God is using this trip to make me more like Himself. While she was playing me Avril Lavigne and R.E.M., Ivania was having me paint these little yellow circles and then draw on happy faces. And as I was doing that, I had to chuckle to myself, because here I was in Nicaragua, literally creating a new smile.

siempre, siempre

Being in Nicaragua feels like swimming in poetry. I've been writing like crazy here and it's such a wonderful feeling. There is something about the small things of this place that I'm falling in love with, something about the details of life in Nica that I'm becoming obsessed over and can't help but expand on. I find myself thinking of lines of verse that I could create about the sharp spines of stray dogs, or the milky-looking water that runs down the street during the heavy rain, or the funny contrast of bright, bright colors on buildings and signs that are always muted with dirt. I find myself daydreaming about the sound of rolling r's in Spanish, or horns honking in Managua, or the sound of the frog that lives outside our room window and sings all night. I find myself craving to put these things down on paper, and find myself so in awe of the way that these things just feel like art to me; I feel like I am walking around in a beautiful museum and I want to capture all the pieces and hold them up to the light.

And the more I write, the more I am learning about myself and the more I am learning that I NEED to write. It's simply how I experience things, this blog being a good example. The way I process is to create my experiences into new words and pour it all out onto a page. And the other thing I'm learning about myself through the writing process is how expression fits into all of that. I'm a communicator, a sharer. If you ask me how I am, I'm going to tell you. (And even if you don't ask me how I am, I'll probably tell you anyways) I'm not too good at keeping the details of my life inside, and that's where poetry and writing and this blog all come in. I've got to do it - it's how I'm learning about this crazy beautiful museum-like world, and how I'm learning about my own place in it. So even if you didn't care to know all that, I'm sharing it with you :)

p.s. Another writing-related thing: in an attempt to better my Spanish abilities, I tried reading one of my favorite poems in espanol. It's called "Clenched Soul" by Pablo Neruda. It was originally written in Spanish, but I've only ever read the English version. I recited it for a class last semester and I just adore it. I posted the Spanish version below. If you want to read it in English, click here.

Hemos perdido aun este crepusculo.
Nadie nos vio esta tarde con las manos unidas
mientras la noche azul caia sobre el mundo.

He visto desde mi ventana
la fiesta del poniente en los cerros lejanos.

A veces como una moneda
se encendia un pedazo de sol entre mis manos.

Yo te recordaba con el alma apretada
de esa tristeza que tu me conoces.

Entonces, donde estabas?
Entre que gentes?
Diciendo que palabras?
Por que se me vendra todo el amor de golpe
cuando me siento triste, y te siento lejana?

Cayo el libro que siempre se toma en el crepusculo,
y como un perro herido rodo a mis pies mi capa.

Siempre, siempre te alejas en las tardes
hacia donde el crepusculo corre borrando estatuas.

luciérnaga

My stomach hurts from laughing. Frank, one of the students in Advanced English, just taught me how to say "firefly" in Spanish (luciernaga) and it took me forever to get it right. Apparently I said something wrong and seemingly inappropriate, because Frank was like "Eeeeemeely!! (that's how they say my name here and I just love it) No no no!!!" and then laughed his head off. And then I started laughing. And then each time I would attempt to say it again, I'd laugh more. I got it eventually though. Oh Nicaragua...everything about you is a joyful learning experience.

Today has been one of those days that you can go to bed feeling good about (in fact, I will do just that after I finish this post, because I am exhausted). First was pancakes for breakfast (yup, I'm talking about the food again. It just isn't getting old) and then off to Chureca for English class. That's one of the programs I'll be focusing on...not sure if I'll be with the beginner or intermediate group...we'll see. It's more difficult than I expected. I was with the intermediate group today since I already checked out the other group last week, and it was a group of four sassy chicas. They're a bit intimidating, but I'm excited to see what our time together will look like and how it'll challenge me. And also, I still just about loose my breath being in Chureca, even for brief bits of time. Something about there makes me feel alive and close to God and I don't really know why yet...perhaps I'll post more thoughts on it later :) I'm far too tired to write anything super eloquent or insightful ahora.

After Chureca was a trip back to the house for a quick lunch and then off to Farito (the schoolhouse) for Comedor and Tuani Hour. Comedor is a feeding program where lunch is served to kids in the community. I'll do that every tuesday. Gosh, I just loved it. I didn't get to do much in terms of serving (I did help with tooth brushing after they ate...soooo cute) but it was a blast just to play with kids, visit them at their tables, listen to them pray and sing a sweet song before lunch. After Comedor we had a little over an hour break. I went outside and played with kids in the community and it was just about my favorite thing we've done this whole trip. I got to hang out with this group of sweet, sweet boys. They were playing marbles and taking photos with my camera and just being silly chicos. My favorite (it seems bad to pick favorites, but hey, oh well) is 9 year old Jon (see pictures below)...he has the most precious little smile and just a joyful personality.

Then came Tuani Hour ("Tuani" means "cool" in Spanish, and it's basically Creative Hour where it's just a fun time for the kids to do some crafts or music or whatever would be exciting for them). Trey, Jessica, Audrey (all Summer Vol's) and I got to plan and teach it today! It was SUCH A BLAST. We did a lesson on aviones (airplanes) and then made paper airplanes and had a competition for which one could fly the farthest.

After Tuani was a trip back to the house for dinner and a quick round of Bananagrams (I am getting so much better after challenging basically everyone in this house...although there are definitely some pros here). Then back to Farito for Beginner's English (a large class with a mix of ages. it's super fun, and just a class I'll help out with) and after that was Advanced English (a program I'll be focusing on...I just LOVE LOVE LOVE it. It's so cool to actually be able to become friends with people here who are my age, and I find that I learn a lot about the culture and Nica-Spanish from them)

Tomorrow I've got preschool (I'll be working with the preschool at Farito a few mornings a week! so fun!) and Kids English at the Land and we'll see what else I can get into :)

Now everyone is back and relaxing in the living room, reading or blogging or writing e-mails. I feel like Nica is getting under my skin a good way. Things are just becoming normal, like driving next to cows on the road or a mouse scurrying two inches from your feet in the living room (just happened) or knowing what it means when someone scrunches their nose at you (it's basically body language for "what?"...I get it a lot with my broken Spanish) or understanding when someone motions like they want you to go away (it actually means "come here") or hearing "GRINGA, MIRA! GRINGA, MIRA!" over and over again from every little kid doing jumping jacks or some dance they want you to see or something. I just love those things, and all the new things I discover about Nica everyday. Just love love love it.

photos! 1) we played 3 v. 3 lacrosse at the Land on Sunday. I was on a team with Norman and Gabe against Fabricio, Hemby and Jessica. 2) Ernesto! 3) Mi amigo Murphy 4) Jon (mi favorito) 5) kids in Cedro 6) Tuani hour airplanes! 7) Murphy and his really cool paper plane 8) Summer Vol love!

on being comfortable

There is definitely something cozy about the Manna house, especially today - it hasn't stopped raining since about 6pm last night it seems. It falls in these heavy, gorgeous drops and it's so nice just to sit here on the couch after playing Bananagrams and watch it splash into the puddles on the stone walkways outside. I slept so peacefully last night...nothing sounds like calm the way rain on a roof does. This morning I read and had a big mug of coffee, and for lunch Elena made guacamole that tasted like heaven. I am comfortable here, getting used to the heaviness of the air and the feeling of relief that comes when it is broken by storm. I am getting used to the sun being the one to wake me up early, poking me with yellow fingers. I am growing comfortable with the frizzy Hermione Granger-esque hair I seem to develop here. I am growing comfortable.

...and I'm uncomfortable about that.

It is a strange sensation to feel like I'm on vacation even though that isn't what I am here for. It's a strange sensation to go out into the communities and then come back here and have someone cook me all my meals and swim in a pool and swing in a hammock or go get Pop's ice cream and be comfortable. I don't really know how to feel about it, but I'm afraid that it's taking away from my ability to truly understand and explore the world of poverty the way that I want to. And it's going to be a challenge, I think, as we get more involved in programs and become more in tune with the way Manna serves here, not to let myself fall into the trap of being comfortable. It's so easy. It's so easy just to want to hang out here and enjoy the sunshine and forget about the world outside and what it's like. It's scares me how easy it is.

But you know what's hard? Loving boldly. That's hard. Speaking Spanish to someone even though you are terrified and will probably sound like an idiot. That's hard. Attempting to build relationships with people who have a culture vastly different than yours. That's hard. But that's what we are called to - to be lovers. To be bold. To have authority to GO and to love. It isn't comfortable, but it's what matters. And so that's my prayer for the rest of my time. Not that I would be comfortable, but that I might be courageous and that I might learn to love even when it isn't easy.

to Nica

some say that you’re a country
made up of old men who sell kites
outside of car windows,
at stoplights
for 45 cords.
but you aren’t those men.
you are the kites.

you are millions of patterns -
four-figured shapes in the dust
of the city dump,
of crowded streets
and inside tin-shacks along rural green hills.
you see horizons begging you into the air.
you have strings tied to the ground.

but soon, all the stillness will disappear.
the world will not keep you
with her broken hands,
will not clasp you between her thumb
of mud and her index finger of poverty.

you’ll be free...

…and the clouds will be grazed with
a million patterns
as you take to the wind.

it’s happening today,
even now
as a child feels the tickle of air
on the soft soles of their feet
and pushes up.

(and in them,
all your darkness is redeemed.
and in them,
the sky is expanding with color)

as for now, we’re together and busy-
off catching this breeze.